#downtrain; 001

[wrightlaw]

@downtrain gets a starter bc i said so <3

❝ Full house- read 'em and weep! ❞ [Phoenix smirked, fanning out his cards on the concrete. Ironically, poker ( read: gambling ) was the closest thing he had to being an attorney again; he had to have faith in his deck, his hand, and read the opponent carefully. Those were skills he'd developed years ago...funny how they came in handy now.]

❝ Alright, buddy. You know the deal. ❞ [He held out his hand expectantly, and his opponent begrudgingly emptied a jar of change into it. Phoenix did always feel for the poor guy, who often didn't have the money to spare...but it was tough to have a conscience when he kept challenging Phoenix every time he loitered in the subway.] ❝ Thanks. I'll see you next time, alright? ❞

[Phoenix tucked the money into his pocket, then started gathering his playing cards. As he did, someone approached- a man clad in ivory clothing. He couldn't tell if it was a proper uniform or not ( you'd be surprised at the get-ups he'd seen over the years ), but that coat and hat combo did look pretty expensive...which gave him an idea.]

❝ Hey there. ❞ [Phoenix smiled, pulling back from the cards and casually shoving his hands in his pockets.] ❝ Y'know, I was just cleaning up, but I know a gambling man when I see him. ❞ [That was a lie; he just had a way of pinpointing easy targets.] ❝ Care for a game of poker? Frank here just gambled away today's pay, so it'd just be you and me. ❞

[wrightlaw]

[Emmet seemed offended, but Phoenix remained unperturbed, even as the ivory man's piercing eyes looked him up and down. After waiting for a moment or so for this freak to inform him on his actual transgressions, Phoenix grew impatient of the silence and went back to collecting his cards. By the time he'd tucked them into their case, Emmet spoke up again.]

["Confused?" Phoenix stifled another laugh as the man insisted that his "crime" was deadly serious- who was this guy, anyway? A normal person wouldn't be so passionate about enforcing rules in a subway...but then again, nothing about him ( or anyone else in his life, for that matter ) was normal. This sort of encounter might as well be an everyday occurrence for him- even if Emmet seemed more incensed by his existence than many of Phoenix's former opponents.]

[Phoenix gave a blank stare as Emmet further clarified- his actions broke the "rules," not the law. He wondered what the difference was in this guy's mind; it certainly couldn't be anything rational.]

❝ Oh. That explains a lot. ❞ [Phoenix remarked as the stranger finally introduced himself. Of course the only station manager he'd met in his lifetime would be an overzealous freak for the rules. He should've guessed.]

[He didn't quite understand Emmet's logic, though- as a budding magician, his daughter had an inherent fascination with playing cards. A good chunk of their bonding had actually involved the introduction of card games, like "Go Fish," "War," and yes, even poker. He didn't ever gamble with her, of course, but they'd sometimes play to determine bedtime or chores. ( Phoenix had never lost a real game, but he'd sometimes throw a game or two for her. )]

❝ I heard you the first time, y'know. ❞ [The double-introduction was a bit...redundant, to say the least.] ❝ And hey, card games can be great for a kid's development- it's better than letting the TV raise them, anyway. As for gambling, I'd argue that if a kid actually thinks to play someone for money, then they've got a gift. ❞ [Phoenix laughed at his own joke.]

❝ Relax. I'm only kidding. ❞ (...Mostly.) ❝ I won't challenge you again. Don't worry about that. ❞ [Tackling Emmet in a game of cards would be way more trouble than it was worth. As if proving his point, he tucked his pack of cards back into his pocket.]

❝ But if you really wanna crack down on subway gambling, you might as well perform a citizen's arrest on Frank here. He's the one who keeps betting! ❞ [Phoenix gestured to the homeless gentleman behind him and chuckled.] ❝ It'd probably keep the poor guy from going into debt. I'd tell him to stop myself, but a guy's gotta make a living, y'know? ❞

"...I'm sorry?" His voice cracked as he glared, eyes narrowing a bit now, at the other. Did he just try to correct him? Who the hell did he think he was? Emmet looked the man up and down several times as if he might find his answer if he did so enough, but he remained equally stumped after each moment that passed.

"I think you're confused." Emmet finally spoke again after several long moments, sounding pretty confused himself. "I stand corrected on the loitering. But I remain serious about the gambling. Deadly serious." He took in a big breath, folding his hands behind his back so it would be a bit less obvious as he furiously gripped them together, tight enough for him to feel his freshly cut nails even through his gloves.

"It is not violating the law. It violating the rules." He spoke slowly, making sure to emphasize the difference between the two so this ne'er-do-well alleged father might have an easier time understanding him. He released his grip on his own hands and pulled them back in front of him in order to clap them together, like a college professor about to start a lecture.

"I am Emmet. I am a station manager. There will be no gambling within our station's premises, legal or otherwise. Many of our passengers are minors. Exposure to gambling is a very bad influence. As a father, I would hope you understand this. I am Emmet." He repeated, his go to, matter-of-fact phrase helping himself stay composed. "I am not going to play poker with you. Not during work. Not after work. If you want to play cards, you can- without distributing money to the winner. Understand?"

Emmet really, really didn't like this guy. He wished his brother was here to help him deal with this because he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take without blowing a gasket.

[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.