Silver Winter {Prologue - Part 2
December 26th, 1919 - Morning
Elisa and Jamie got back to the bookstore just when Quinton hung up the phone.
Looking up at them, the Pajari bookkeeper sighed and rubbed his temple, shaking his head. "There's no one fitting Mackenzie's description at the hospital."
"Where the hell is he?" Elisa muttered darkly, hugging herself tighter. Jamie rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, looking at Quinn as he stared at Elisa contemplatively.
"...Elisa, why did you have to leave the fight early?"
Elisa turned to Quinton, brows raised; mouth open to answer when the phone rang. The three jumped, staring at the phone, before Quinton picked it up.
"Hello? ...Mackenzie?" Elisa and Jamie moved closer to Quinton to hear the other man, Quinton scowling at them but allowing them the moment to break his personal space. "Where are you?"
'At a friend's - I'm gonna stay another day, if that's alright.'
"Are you alright?" Elisa asked, Quinton shooting her a look. She shot a look back at him, and Jamie rolled his eyes as the two.
'Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, just a bit more beat up than I thought. I got a bed, though, and food and water and all that. I'll be okay. I'll see you all tomorrow, okay? Tell Tahno I'm fine - I don't need him hunting me down. Or getting Louis to hunt me down.' The three grimaced at the same time at the thought of the detective looking for Mackenzie. 'See you all tomorrow.'
"Alright, Mackenzie - we'll talk more then." Quinton hung up after another murmured goodbye from the boxer, sighing and removing his glasses. "...well, that's been dealt with."
"Guess I'll go back to work," Jamie said, smiling. Elisa wandered away just then, going over to some books over in the back. Once sure Elisa was out of sight, Jamie leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Quinton's cheek. The accountant stiffened, but sighed a little, shaking his head. "I'll see you all tomorrow!"
"Have a good day, Jamie!" Elisa called out, looking up from the book she'd randomly picked up. The bell chimed, and Jamie was gone, leaving Quinton and Elisa alone. Elisa cringed when Quinton looked directly at her.
"...We have to talk, Elisa."
"...I can explain."
"You had better."
~+~
December 25th, 1919
"...This is where y'both live?"
Elisa nodded, flicking on the lights and watching as Dom walked further in, looking around. The apartment was a fair size, with pictures and little knickknacks here and there. Nothing too fancy, though, and nothing that couldn't be packed away quickly. They did have a radio, though - a gift from Tahno after they had found the place and settled in, 'to make it feel like home'.
"My room's the one closest to the bathroom, and 'Kenz's is closest to the living room. He likes to be near the front door in case anyone tries to break in."
"Tha' way he's first t'deal wiv th'intruders, right?"
"Mmhm." Elisa nodded, hanging up her coat and straightening out her dress with quick fingers. "You hungry, Dom? Thirsty? I think I have a club sandwich in the refrigerator from this afternoon..."
"...I am a bit hungry..."
Elisa looked over her shoulder, smiling at the young man and holding out her hand. After a moment of hesitation, Dom took it, allowing the older woman to lead him into the kitchen.
"Sit yourself down at the table, I'll whip you up a midnight snack everyone will be jealous of." Dom smiled weakly, moving to do as he was told while Elisa bustled around the kitchen, getting out a plate and a glass and going to the fridge to pull out the sandwich and the bottle of milk that they still had to use up. He watched her with quiet brown eyes, rubbing at his nose again as he tried to abate sniffles. "...you wanna talk about it, honey?"
"..." Dom sighed, folding his arms over the table and resting his head on them. "...they got in an accident," he mumbled, staring at the top of the wooden table. It was nicked in places from stray knives and forks; the table having been a save from the scrap yard. Elisa said the scarred wood gave it character; 'Kenzie thought it made them look like an abusive couple. "...ovver guy lost control of his car... ran int'em. Dead on impact, y'know? I wuz workin' when one'uv th'boys runs up t'me. Tells me, 'there's been'a big accident! It'll make the pape's t'morrah!' so... we go t'see it first-hand. An' I recognize th'car, and m'mum's dress..."
Elisa left the food on the counter as Dom's voice broke, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight, rocking with him side-to-side.
"It's okay, Dom... it's gonna be okay... we're gonna take care of you..." She sighed as the boy clung onto her, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his shoulder.
"We'll make sure you're okay..."
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Morning
"He's just a kid, Quinton."
Quinton frowned, cleaning the lenses of his spectacles while Elisa stood in front of him, watching warily. He then sighed, replacing them onto his nose and looking down at her with green eyes.
"An orphaned child, Elisa?"
"...he's been hangin' around me and 'Kenzie for months now. He's a good kid. And he's fast, and he's smart." She paused, swallowing, before stepping closer. "...he might be able to help us?"
"Oh?"
"He knows the streets almost as well as 'Kenzie. Get 'Kenzie to show him around some, and he'll know 'em better. Then, if we need to send out messages real quick... 'sides, no one's gonna stop a kid running around the street, they'll think he's some delivery boy for a convenience store or something. C'mon! It'll be good for him, it'll keep him out of the way, what's the harm?"
"We do not know how well he can keep secrets."
"Better than most people," Elisa insisted, hands on her hips now. "The newsies keep more secrets than they sell papers. They're the city's secret keepers."
Quinton frowned, sighing heavily and sitting at his desk, then, opening his binder of information. Elisa waited for some answer from him, hopping on the balls of her feet; her heels thudding against the floor's carpet. Finally, after what felt like forever, Quinton spoke up.
"I'll ask Tahno about it. For now, just... go home, Elisa. Make sure he's still there."
Elisa grinned and nodded, and she was off without another word. Quinton watched the door closed with tired eyes, wondering if he was making the world's biggest mistake or not.
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Evening
Tahno leaned against the railing of the stairs that led up to Louis Midou's apartment. After a minute, the door opened, revealing the PI dressed down for the evening; tie gone, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, indigo vest undone and suspenders peeking out. Dark curls fell into his indigo eyes, and the Frenchman grinned, stepping aside to allow the Russian immigrant access to his home.
"It is good to see you made it, mon chou. I trust your day has been enjoyable?"
Tahno shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over to Louis who hung it up without a word, the Russian taking the moment to look around. "Da, it has been... Mackenzie was missing for a bit."
"And you have found him since?"
"Da," Tahno nodded again, looking over to Louis finally. "Thus the use of the word 'was'. But, before we get distracted, business."
"Ah, yes, well then - follow me. We might as well drink as we speak of such... dull things." Tahno snorted, but did so, walking through the small apartment into the living room, where a bottle of wine was already out and airing, two glasses standing beside it. He quirked a brow, sitting down in the only armchair. Louis poured out white wine, handing Tahno his glass before proceeding to pour out his own. "Soon we will not be able to taste such delicacies."
"That is, in fact, what I wished to speak with you about," Tahno murmured, taking a sip of the wine. He took a moment to test out the taste on his tongue, shrugging a shoulder a little at Louis' inquisitive look and earning a snort from the PI. "As you probably well know, certain citizens of the city are not... reacting well to the upcoming Prohibition."
"I have never arrested so many people for drunken behaviour on the streets," Louis said with a snort, taking a swallow from his glass. "That husband from today? Drunk when he killed her. Found him sobbing over a bottle."
"Pity," Tahno said dryly, waving away the digression with a wave of his hand. "Some are thinking of opening their own establishments to continue the distribution."
"Why, mon chou, that would be completely against the law," Louis said, though he didn't look surprised at all. "Are you here to bribe me?"
"Yes."
Louis paused, before laughing, shaking his head and putting down his glass before he made a mess. He sighed, took another look at Tahno, and laughed again, standing up and walking over to Tahno. Placing one hand on the armrest, his opposite knee beside Tahno's hip, he trapped the Russian mobster into his seat and leaned in, looking at him with a coy grin.
"I've been bribed by many now. I've denied them all. What are you going to offer me?"
Tahno stared up at him, gave him his glass, and then caught onto Louis' collar, dragging him even closer.
"More than anyone could offer you."
Louis' grin turned sharp as he dropped the wine glass onto the floor, white wine spilling out onto the carpet.
"And here I thought we were only going to talk of business."
"Ah, but you see golubushka," Tahno said with a smirk, tilting his chin up to bump his nose into the Frenchman's prominent nose, "this is business."
~+~
December 26th, 1919
Ray sat at the dining room table, listening to his family discuss plans and orders and bribes, yet he could not concentrate at all.
His mind continued to drift to the boxer he had left in his friend's care, with the reddish-brown curls and the freckled nose. He was one of his favourite fighters, and someone he often betted on and won because of. He was cheerful and whip-sharp, with the devil in his eyes and angels in his manners.
He's always... liked him. But he'd never bothered getting to know him, or even talking to him. He was a Pajari boy; what's more, he was a veritable stranger.
Yet now that he'd actually met him more personally; seen him after the fights, weak and wobbly-kneed...
He so desperately wanted to get to know him better.
"...Ray? Ray, are you there?"
The tallest Morales blinked out of his thoughts, looking over to see his younger brother, Timothy, giving him a look. "Mother wants to know if you're willing to be a rumrunner with us?"
"...Rumrunner?"
"Someone who collects the alcohol from the Canadian border. It'll be good for you," Sally May Morales said, smiling. "Get you out of the city for a while."
Pursing his lips, Mackenzie Moore still in the back of his mind, Ray nodded.
"Sure. Sounds good to me."
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Evening
Mackenzie had drifted off some time ago, leaving Goose alone with his thoughts and the bottle of opium in the drawer.
Carefully pulling it out, he moved away from the bed and instead went to a special little section of the floor. Tugging at the corners of the floorboard, he pried it up, removing a small box; opening the box revealed a syringe. Moving quickly and carefully, the whore prepped the needle, wrapped a black cord around his arm, and pulled it tight with his teeth.
With practiced ease, Goose slid the needle into the crook of his arm and sighed as he pushed the plunger.
He'd pulled it out and removed the empty container where the opium had been when Mackenzie spoke up.
"My sister smoked it." Goose twitched, took in a deep breath, and then proceeded with cleaning his needle and putting it away. Once the box was safely stored once more, the empty opium container in the garbage along with a cotton swab covered in dots of blood, Goose turned languidly to look at his guest. Mackenzie was watching him with a melancholic kind of ease.
"She was afraid of needles, so she could never get herself to inject it. But smoking... she liked to smoke it." He closed his eyes, and Goose moved a little closer to him, sitting gingerly beside him. After a moment, the hop took effect, and he laid down beside him, stretching out along his side and resting a hand on his chest. The boxer didn't even try to push him away, just shifted to allow him room.
"...she was like me?"
"Mmmhm," 'Kenzie nodded, reaching up to rub the side of his nose. "...she said the hop relaxed her." Goose nodded, knowing the sentiment; it was why he took it, so he told himself. 'Kenzie sighed a little. "...she's dead."
"...from the hop?"
"Nah," 'Kenzie shook his head, cracking a bitter smile. "Bad customers." Goose winced at the implication, and Mackenzie sighed. "...you been doin' this long?"
"...long enough."
"Okay." Mackenzie nodded. After a moment, he lifted a hand, pressed it to the back of Goose's neck, and rubbed circles in the skin. "...okay."
~+~
December 27th, 1919
Tahno returned to the bookstore to see Quinton, Jamie, and Elisa surrounding Mackenzie and taking turns talking to him. Beside Elisa, attempting to hide behind the shorter woman, a tall ginger boy stood, watching the interactions with wide eyes and the vaguest sense of amusement hiding in a barely-there smile. The successful deal with Louis, plus a quick chat to some of his estranged friends in the Russian community, had put Tahno in a good mood.
"I see we are all together," he spoke up, bringing attention to him. "And we have a guest! Elisa, a friend of yours, da?"
"Yep! Quinton and I wanna talk to you about Dom here, actually."
"In but a moment," Tahno said, waving his hand. "Right now, I wish to welcome Mackenzie back. I hear you had a bit of trouble getting home the other day."
"Ah - yes, sir, but I'm fine, now." Mackenzie smiled, shrugging a little and shoving his hands into his pockets. Tahno nodded again, looking to Quinton and Elisa.
"Alright, then - let's have that discussion."
~+~
January 1st, 1920 - Midnight (New Years)
"Cheers!"
The hall was crowded with people, everyone holding a drink whether they had asked for one or not. Women dragged their partners and friends onto the dance floor; the band played a lively tune, the woman singing belting it out like her life depended on it.
Tahno Pajari stood to the back, watching as the people enjoyed the last evening that they could legally drink out in public like this. He tilted his head as Quinton approached him, speaking to him quietly. Nodding, he waved the bookkeeper away, moving away from the wall and out of the hall.
He stood out on the balcony, staring down at the streets where people walked around in a daze. One familiar group of brothers caught his eye, and he narrowed his eyes in speculation, knowing that the Morales were planning to open their own club soon enough. Their location was close to his own; he supposed competition was not a terrible thing, at the end of the day.
Looking away from the street, he stared up at the sky, lifting his glass in a toast to the moon.
"To a bright New Year, da?"
Elisa and Jamie got back to the bookstore just when Quinton hung up the phone.
Looking up at them, the Pajari bookkeeper sighed and rubbed his temple, shaking his head. "There's no one fitting Mackenzie's description at the hospital."
"Where the hell is he?" Elisa muttered darkly, hugging herself tighter. Jamie rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, looking at Quinn as he stared at Elisa contemplatively.
"...Elisa, why did you have to leave the fight early?"
Elisa turned to Quinton, brows raised; mouth open to answer when the phone rang. The three jumped, staring at the phone, before Quinton picked it up.
"Hello? ...Mackenzie?" Elisa and Jamie moved closer to Quinton to hear the other man, Quinton scowling at them but allowing them the moment to break his personal space. "Where are you?"
'At a friend's - I'm gonna stay another day, if that's alright.'
"Are you alright?" Elisa asked, Quinton shooting her a look. She shot a look back at him, and Jamie rolled his eyes as the two.
'Yeah... yeah, I'm fine, just a bit more beat up than I thought. I got a bed, though, and food and water and all that. I'll be okay. I'll see you all tomorrow, okay? Tell Tahno I'm fine - I don't need him hunting me down. Or getting Louis to hunt me down.' The three grimaced at the same time at the thought of the detective looking for Mackenzie. 'See you all tomorrow.'
"Alright, Mackenzie - we'll talk more then." Quinton hung up after another murmured goodbye from the boxer, sighing and removing his glasses. "...well, that's been dealt with."
"Guess I'll go back to work," Jamie said, smiling. Elisa wandered away just then, going over to some books over in the back. Once sure Elisa was out of sight, Jamie leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Quinton's cheek. The accountant stiffened, but sighed a little, shaking his head. "I'll see you all tomorrow!"
"Have a good day, Jamie!" Elisa called out, looking up from the book she'd randomly picked up. The bell chimed, and Jamie was gone, leaving Quinton and Elisa alone. Elisa cringed when Quinton looked directly at her.
"...We have to talk, Elisa."
"...I can explain."
"You had better."
~+~
December 25th, 1919
"...This is where y'both live?"
Elisa nodded, flicking on the lights and watching as Dom walked further in, looking around. The apartment was a fair size, with pictures and little knickknacks here and there. Nothing too fancy, though, and nothing that couldn't be packed away quickly. They did have a radio, though - a gift from Tahno after they had found the place and settled in, 'to make it feel like home'.
"My room's the one closest to the bathroom, and 'Kenz's is closest to the living room. He likes to be near the front door in case anyone tries to break in."
"Tha' way he's first t'deal wiv th'intruders, right?"
"Mmhm." Elisa nodded, hanging up her coat and straightening out her dress with quick fingers. "You hungry, Dom? Thirsty? I think I have a club sandwich in the refrigerator from this afternoon..."
"...I am a bit hungry..."
Elisa looked over her shoulder, smiling at the young man and holding out her hand. After a moment of hesitation, Dom took it, allowing the older woman to lead him into the kitchen.
"Sit yourself down at the table, I'll whip you up a midnight snack everyone will be jealous of." Dom smiled weakly, moving to do as he was told while Elisa bustled around the kitchen, getting out a plate and a glass and going to the fridge to pull out the sandwich and the bottle of milk that they still had to use up. He watched her with quiet brown eyes, rubbing at his nose again as he tried to abate sniffles. "...you wanna talk about it, honey?"
"..." Dom sighed, folding his arms over the table and resting his head on them. "...they got in an accident," he mumbled, staring at the top of the wooden table. It was nicked in places from stray knives and forks; the table having been a save from the scrap yard. Elisa said the scarred wood gave it character; 'Kenzie thought it made them look like an abusive couple. "...ovver guy lost control of his car... ran int'em. Dead on impact, y'know? I wuz workin' when one'uv th'boys runs up t'me. Tells me, 'there's been'a big accident! It'll make the pape's t'morrah!' so... we go t'see it first-hand. An' I recognize th'car, and m'mum's dress..."
Elisa left the food on the counter as Dom's voice broke, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tight, rocking with him side-to-side.
"It's okay, Dom... it's gonna be okay... we're gonna take care of you..." She sighed as the boy clung onto her, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his shoulder.
"We'll make sure you're okay..."
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Morning
"He's just a kid, Quinton."
Quinton frowned, cleaning the lenses of his spectacles while Elisa stood in front of him, watching warily. He then sighed, replacing them onto his nose and looking down at her with green eyes.
"An orphaned child, Elisa?"
"...he's been hangin' around me and 'Kenzie for months now. He's a good kid. And he's fast, and he's smart." She paused, swallowing, before stepping closer. "...he might be able to help us?"
"Oh?"
"He knows the streets almost as well as 'Kenzie. Get 'Kenzie to show him around some, and he'll know 'em better. Then, if we need to send out messages real quick... 'sides, no one's gonna stop a kid running around the street, they'll think he's some delivery boy for a convenience store or something. C'mon! It'll be good for him, it'll keep him out of the way, what's the harm?"
"We do not know how well he can keep secrets."
"Better than most people," Elisa insisted, hands on her hips now. "The newsies keep more secrets than they sell papers. They're the city's secret keepers."
Quinton frowned, sighing heavily and sitting at his desk, then, opening his binder of information. Elisa waited for some answer from him, hopping on the balls of her feet; her heels thudding against the floor's carpet. Finally, after what felt like forever, Quinton spoke up.
"I'll ask Tahno about it. For now, just... go home, Elisa. Make sure he's still there."
Elisa grinned and nodded, and she was off without another word. Quinton watched the door closed with tired eyes, wondering if he was making the world's biggest mistake or not.
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Evening
Tahno leaned against the railing of the stairs that led up to Louis Midou's apartment. After a minute, the door opened, revealing the PI dressed down for the evening; tie gone, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, indigo vest undone and suspenders peeking out. Dark curls fell into his indigo eyes, and the Frenchman grinned, stepping aside to allow the Russian immigrant access to his home.
"It is good to see you made it, mon chou. I trust your day has been enjoyable?"
Tahno shrugged out of his jacket, handing it over to Louis who hung it up without a word, the Russian taking the moment to look around. "Da, it has been... Mackenzie was missing for a bit."
"And you have found him since?"
"Da," Tahno nodded again, looking over to Louis finally. "Thus the use of the word 'was'. But, before we get distracted, business."
"Ah, yes, well then - follow me. We might as well drink as we speak of such... dull things." Tahno snorted, but did so, walking through the small apartment into the living room, where a bottle of wine was already out and airing, two glasses standing beside it. He quirked a brow, sitting down in the only armchair. Louis poured out white wine, handing Tahno his glass before proceeding to pour out his own. "Soon we will not be able to taste such delicacies."
"That is, in fact, what I wished to speak with you about," Tahno murmured, taking a sip of the wine. He took a moment to test out the taste on his tongue, shrugging a shoulder a little at Louis' inquisitive look and earning a snort from the PI. "As you probably well know, certain citizens of the city are not... reacting well to the upcoming Prohibition."
"I have never arrested so many people for drunken behaviour on the streets," Louis said with a snort, taking a swallow from his glass. "That husband from today? Drunk when he killed her. Found him sobbing over a bottle."
"Pity," Tahno said dryly, waving away the digression with a wave of his hand. "Some are thinking of opening their own establishments to continue the distribution."
"Why, mon chou, that would be completely against the law," Louis said, though he didn't look surprised at all. "Are you here to bribe me?"
"Yes."
Louis paused, before laughing, shaking his head and putting down his glass before he made a mess. He sighed, took another look at Tahno, and laughed again, standing up and walking over to Tahno. Placing one hand on the armrest, his opposite knee beside Tahno's hip, he trapped the Russian mobster into his seat and leaned in, looking at him with a coy grin.
"I've been bribed by many now. I've denied them all. What are you going to offer me?"
Tahno stared up at him, gave him his glass, and then caught onto Louis' collar, dragging him even closer.
"More than anyone could offer you."
Louis' grin turned sharp as he dropped the wine glass onto the floor, white wine spilling out onto the carpet.
"And here I thought we were only going to talk of business."
"Ah, but you see golubushka," Tahno said with a smirk, tilting his chin up to bump his nose into the Frenchman's prominent nose, "this is business."
~+~
December 26th, 1919
Ray sat at the dining room table, listening to his family discuss plans and orders and bribes, yet he could not concentrate at all.
His mind continued to drift to the boxer he had left in his friend's care, with the reddish-brown curls and the freckled nose. He was one of his favourite fighters, and someone he often betted on and won because of. He was cheerful and whip-sharp, with the devil in his eyes and angels in his manners.
He's always... liked him. But he'd never bothered getting to know him, or even talking to him. He was a Pajari boy; what's more, he was a veritable stranger.
Yet now that he'd actually met him more personally; seen him after the fights, weak and wobbly-kneed...
He so desperately wanted to get to know him better.
"...Ray? Ray, are you there?"
The tallest Morales blinked out of his thoughts, looking over to see his younger brother, Timothy, giving him a look. "Mother wants to know if you're willing to be a rumrunner with us?"
"...Rumrunner?"
"Someone who collects the alcohol from the Canadian border. It'll be good for you," Sally May Morales said, smiling. "Get you out of the city for a while."
Pursing his lips, Mackenzie Moore still in the back of his mind, Ray nodded.
"Sure. Sounds good to me."
~+~
December 26th, 1919 - Evening
Mackenzie had drifted off some time ago, leaving Goose alone with his thoughts and the bottle of opium in the drawer.
Carefully pulling it out, he moved away from the bed and instead went to a special little section of the floor. Tugging at the corners of the floorboard, he pried it up, removing a small box; opening the box revealed a syringe. Moving quickly and carefully, the whore prepped the needle, wrapped a black cord around his arm, and pulled it tight with his teeth.
With practiced ease, Goose slid the needle into the crook of his arm and sighed as he pushed the plunger.
He'd pulled it out and removed the empty container where the opium had been when Mackenzie spoke up.
"My sister smoked it." Goose twitched, took in a deep breath, and then proceeded with cleaning his needle and putting it away. Once the box was safely stored once more, the empty opium container in the garbage along with a cotton swab covered in dots of blood, Goose turned languidly to look at his guest. Mackenzie was watching him with a melancholic kind of ease.
"She was afraid of needles, so she could never get herself to inject it. But smoking... she liked to smoke it." He closed his eyes, and Goose moved a little closer to him, sitting gingerly beside him. After a moment, the hop took effect, and he laid down beside him, stretching out along his side and resting a hand on his chest. The boxer didn't even try to push him away, just shifted to allow him room.
"...she was like me?"
"Mmmhm," 'Kenzie nodded, reaching up to rub the side of his nose. "...she said the hop relaxed her." Goose nodded, knowing the sentiment; it was why he took it, so he told himself. 'Kenzie sighed a little. "...she's dead."
"...from the hop?"
"Nah," 'Kenzie shook his head, cracking a bitter smile. "Bad customers." Goose winced at the implication, and Mackenzie sighed. "...you been doin' this long?"
"...long enough."
"Okay." Mackenzie nodded. After a moment, he lifted a hand, pressed it to the back of Goose's neck, and rubbed circles in the skin. "...okay."
~+~
December 27th, 1919
Tahno returned to the bookstore to see Quinton, Jamie, and Elisa surrounding Mackenzie and taking turns talking to him. Beside Elisa, attempting to hide behind the shorter woman, a tall ginger boy stood, watching the interactions with wide eyes and the vaguest sense of amusement hiding in a barely-there smile. The successful deal with Louis, plus a quick chat to some of his estranged friends in the Russian community, had put Tahno in a good mood.
"I see we are all together," he spoke up, bringing attention to him. "And we have a guest! Elisa, a friend of yours, da?"
"Yep! Quinton and I wanna talk to you about Dom here, actually."
"In but a moment," Tahno said, waving his hand. "Right now, I wish to welcome Mackenzie back. I hear you had a bit of trouble getting home the other day."
"Ah - yes, sir, but I'm fine, now." Mackenzie smiled, shrugging a little and shoving his hands into his pockets. Tahno nodded again, looking to Quinton and Elisa.
"Alright, then - let's have that discussion."
~+~
January 1st, 1920 - Midnight (New Years)
"Cheers!"
The hall was crowded with people, everyone holding a drink whether they had asked for one or not. Women dragged their partners and friends onto the dance floor; the band played a lively tune, the woman singing belting it out like her life depended on it.
Tahno Pajari stood to the back, watching as the people enjoyed the last evening that they could legally drink out in public like this. He tilted his head as Quinton approached him, speaking to him quietly. Nodding, he waved the bookkeeper away, moving away from the wall and out of the hall.
He stood out on the balcony, staring down at the streets where people walked around in a daze. One familiar group of brothers caught his eye, and he narrowed his eyes in speculation, knowing that the Morales were planning to open their own club soon enough. Their location was close to his own; he supposed competition was not a terrible thing, at the end of the day.
Looking away from the street, he stared up at the sky, lifting his glass in a toast to the moon.
"To a bright New Year, da?"