#{ gee emmet are you being discriminatory towards homeless people?? RUDE }

[wrightlaw]

[Alas, what Phoenix pegged as an "easy mark" was actually a stickler for the nonexistent rules of the subway. He should've guessed- especially after the guy threw an accusatory finger-point. He'd half expected an "objection!" to come out of his mouth...but that would be a ridiculous assumption. "Fancy" as his attire might be, there was no way it belonged to an attorney or prosecutor.]

[Contradictory as Emmet's expression was, Phoenix had encountered a number of people who smiled when they were distraught or cornered. Hell, he'd done so himself countless times- that was Mia's philosophy. "For lawyers, the worst of times are when you have to force your biggest smiles." Nowadays, Phoenix used that priceless advice to bluff in poker.]

[Emmet's voice strained as he tried to keep his composure, akin to the way killers would react when Phoenix would accuse them...]

[...Someday, he hoped he'd recover enough to stop comparing everything to his courtroom battles. Those days were over now.]

[It would undoubtedly infuriate Emmet, but Phoenix laughed at the idea that gambling in a subway tunnel was somehow violating the rules. It was technically legal- it was unsupervised betting that could earn the scrutiny of the law, depending on who you played against. Frank wasn't a narc, which was the only reason Phoenix always indulged him...besides, Frank could never afford a lawsuit with how he "spent" his money.]

❝ Hate to break it to you, but the only "violation" in a subway is not paying for a pass. And before you accuse me of that, too- ❞ [Phoenix pulled out his MetroCard, flashing it to Emmet the way he used to flash his attorney's badge.] ❝ I'm a paying customer. ❞ [He tucked it back into his hoodie's pocket before this freak tried to confiscate it.]

❝ Oh, and I'm not loitering either- I'm just killing time before I have to pick up my daughter from school. The next train should be here in a few minutes, so you'd better choose fast. ❞ [He joked, now fully aware that Emmet wasn't the gambling type. Maybe it was rude to poke fun at this guy, but he seemed to think he was some kind of authority figure...in a subway, too. This was a lawless land. There were ways of getting in trouble, sure, but if buskers could blast music at ear-deafening volumes all day, then a quiet game of poker should be the least of anyone's worries.]

Loitering was a major issue in the subway that never seemed to cease despite Emmet's many efforts. It was crowded enough even without the mass of layabouts loafing around and unnecessarily taking up space. The buskers were often the worst of the lot, purposefully getting in others' way and playing their instrument as loud as possible in an effort to get the most donations. Emmet bet the only reason they got donations in the first place was so they might finally leave the targets of their harassment alone and actually let them to get to their destination on time.

As much as he loathed those purposefully being a nuisance, at least he could see some amount of logic in their actions. It was immoral, bothersome, unjust, and rule violating logic, but he understood that they would persist as long as they were getting something out of it. But there was only a select number of loiterers that grinded his gears even more than the buskers did. He watched them as unwavering as the station's security camera.

There was no reason for people to gather here for the sole purpose of playing cards. They could do that anywhere. It's not as if the subway was a more private location- they likely had more eyes on them here than they would in the middle of the park. It'd be quieter there too. Wouldn't it be easier to play where the noise levels were low? It was one thing when people played games while waiting for their train. Emmet of all people understood the need to find something to fill the time as one waited. These two, however, were not that.

He'd seen them before. They rarely, if ever, actually rode the trains. And it was never just cards with them. It was gambling, specifically. Normally there was nothing wrong with that. Adults (Emmet included) could participate in whatever risky behaviors they wanted to- as long as they were doing so safely and far away from any minors that might be influenced by their witnessing their actions.

Emmet couldn't take it anymore. He marched over to the pair in large strides, stopping only once there was less than a foot of space between them. He pointed an irritated finger in the air, opened his mouth and-

'Care for a game of poker?'

Was he serious? Emmet's usual grin stretched way too wide as he folded his hands behind his back and did his absolute best to remain composed after being asked such a ridiculous, audacious, stupid question. He cleared his throat.

"Verrrrrrrrrrrrry enlightening!!!" He tried to speak with his usual friendly chirp, but it was far too exaggerated for it to be genuine- it was so obviously, horrendously forced. "So it sounds like Mr. Frank here is only guiltily of one violation at this moment. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same about yourself, can I?" He asked, irritation evident in his voice that was several octaves too high. He wanted clarification on whether or not the man knew that what he'd been doing was wrong or if he was really so ignorant as to think this kind of behavior was acceptable subway etiquette.