poly_chromatic | o o 5 . v i d e o

Entry tags:

boardwalk empire - al capone

o o 5 . v i d e o

[ Al is quiet as the feed clicks on. He's not full of his usual zest; his demeanor more muted tonight. As the remains of the cigarette are squashed on the off-screen ashtray, he wastes no time lighting another before he speaks. ]

Much like yourselves, there's a couple of things of mine in circulation. I'd appreciate getting 'em back.

If needed, the favor can be returned.

[ These are the family photos of Al's in circulation +1 of Jimmy in his skivvies, but who even wants that? ]

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[Actually, it's kind of surprising that the photos of Jimmy out there seem to be mostly benign.]

Yeah, I got one of you and your kid, too.

[ A sniff as he flicks some ash. ]

So, you want yours or what?

Yeah, I want mine. Where you wanna meet?

[It's like a drug deal... except they're just family photos. Somehow, for these two, that's probably more difficult than exchanging illicit items.]

Bar on this side of town.

[ Because alcohol solves these kind of things quite wonderfully. ]

Right. Okay. Be there soon.

[And he's on his way, picture in hand. Alcohol's definitely going to help.]

[ Sorry, Jimmy. Al hasn't waited for you at all and has already started in on a few fingers of whiskey. You micks certainly know how to set 'em up. ]

Hey.

[ He waves him over. ]

Hey.

[He walks over, limp a little worse than normal, and orders himself some whiskey, too.]

How's it goin'?

[ While noticeable, he doesn't comment on the limp. Not yet. The guy is doing him a favor, after all. ]

You believe this? How do they even pull this off?

Hell if I know. Gotta figure it's whatever 'magic' they use for everythin' else.

[He's going through this first drink pretty quickly.]

You think the pictures stick around after the day's over?

Fuck if I know.

[ He meets eyes with the bartender, gesturing at his associate's near-empty glass for another round and to indicate the sum is on his tab. ]

Here.

[ On the counter he sets a picture of the Darmodys enjoying their beachfront home-- carefree, happy and completely unaware the moment has been preserved. ]

[He looks at the picture, and has to try damn hard not to get emotional about it. He'll just hide any feelings with another swig from his glass.]

Thanks. Here's yours.

[He sets down the picture of Al looking affectionately at his son as he plays music for him.]

I kinda hope some of 'em do stick around. Y'know.

[ With the tips of his fingers he scoots the picture closer and stares at it a while before helping himself to a generous portion of his glass. ]

Not exactly the same, but it's something.

Least they don't know we're gone, y'know?

[Although that doesn't make him miss his kid any less, that's for sure.]

Yeah. I wouldn't want 'm here anyway.

[ For a few reasons, actually. Jimmy Irish can understand that. ]

What about you?

Yeah, neither would I. Not that home's always a great place for kids, either.

[He's not entirely happy about admitting that, but it's true.]

Speak for yourself.

[ ...It's in bad taste, even for him. He'll smooth the statement over. ]

I mean, I'll take the normal shit over dragons and random invasions of privacy.

[His eyes narrow at that comment for a second before sighing.]

Hey, I dunno, sometimes when you die here, you come back from the dead. That's kinda nice.

You planning on dying anytime soon?

[ Past the layer of sarcasm, he's interested. ]

[He spins his glass in his hand for a minute before shrugging.]

You know that guy here that's got the same face as Nucky?

I seen him. About as charming too.

Well, he shot me.

[Jimmy kind of likes him. Go figure.]

Why'd he do that?

Well, there was that whole boat thing. Y'know.

[The murder boat hadn't exactly been Jimmy's favorite curse. First he'd been put up against the guy with the same face as him, and then he'd been put up against the guy with the same face as Nucky.]

Anyway, he shot me. So I killed him. He came back.

[A shrug.]

[ Ah, that. No one seems to have gotten unscathed with that one as his lack of surprise might suggest. Quietly, he finishes his drink, eying Jimmy over the rim of the glass before setting it back down with a firm thud. ]

Sounds like he got the message then.

Yeah, I'd say he got it. He's an okay guy though.

Point is, anyway, I don't plan on dyin' around here, but it could happen. 'n then I'll come back from the dead, like I never died in the first place. How's that for fucked up?

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