The minimal admonishment from Alonzo had Lucian offering an unimpressed eye roll, coupled with an underwhelmed chuff. “Concerned? That’s cute.” After all these years, a given constant was how effortlessly patronizing and condescending the werewolf could manage to be. “Good thing I’ve tasted shit far worse than this in my life. Hell, at least if I got sick I’d be feeling something from this backwash.” The alcohol he had been drinking would have certainly served a better purpose as an industrial drain cleaner for the sewage lines, but Luc needed something to keep himself occupied. If Lonnie could smoke, why couldn’t the wolf drink, it was a fair enough trade-off if you asked the man.

Lucian didn’t seem very appreciative of the dismissal, his eyes narrowing slightly as he huffed out an exhale that was far better suited to an enraged bull rather than a huffy werewolf. “Maybe I do.” The response was petulant, though admittedly rather pointless as the speaker was acutely aware of the fact that even if he did indeed have a date, or really any other prior arrangements for that matter, Alonzo would be pesteringly adamant over Luc canceling those, as it was crystal clear the son thought his engagements far more superior.

Which, granted, they probably were, but that was not the point. It was during times like this where the werewolf considered the kid to be a brat. Despite having lived the beginning of his childhood on the streets in some godforsaken city, which had never garnered any sympathy from the wolf, Lonnie had- in the end- been taken in by his blood and raised as to how you would expect the family of a massive crime syndicate to be raised. Ridiculous request at their beck and call, looked upon with eyes brimming dually with terror and infatuation. Power like that really could only produce spoiled snobs, expectant of everyone being at their beck and call. You didn’t have to take Luc’s words and opinion for it, the proof was in the pudding. Oddly enough, the whole arrangement never truly seemed to bother Lucian however, even if that fact was more apparent at times than not. As with most circumstances, he seemed to accept whatever was thrown his way.

If one did not know any better, you might assume that Lucian seemed to be rather pleased with himself once it became evident that Alonzo would cave and would let some meat of the plan air. You would be right about that suspicion, even if he hadn’t met a wry grin break the neutral line his lips had been pressed into. Perhaps the information shared would hardly be enough to seem satisfied with. That would not be all that shocking, considering that the mastermind was Alonzo Salucci. That one liked to play his cards close to his chest, good luck trying to pry even a modicum of an explanation from the son. No matter- to the enforcer, detail was detail. And it was clearly enough to satiate, even if for only a temporary period, the myriad of questions the werewolf had in regards to the nightly events.

The man stayed posed in his lazy sprawl, his dark eyes taking on a disinterested glaze as he gazed about the speakeasy's floor. Lonnie would know the wolf was rather completely enthralled- however, he wasn’t about to openly display the same excitements over being let into the fold. Lucian did not wish to draw in unwanted attention, and if part of the conversing party seemed utterly stultified there would be no reason for other patrons to bother with attempts at eavesdropping. Not that Alonzo spoke loud enough for anyone to even get a taste of the topic of the conversation, a habit you were quick to pick up when living with the preternatural.

At the shared details, particularly in regards to the variety of alcohol the shipment would be hauling, Luc gave an appreciative hum. New supplier was a balm to the werewolf. New suppliers were shady, got cold feet and in general were complete pains to work with. Should a supply from an unestablished source go missing, it’d be an inconvenient headache at most but certainly not a fatal blow. It’d be plausible that the new shipper merely got spooked at the notion of being a bitch for the mob, and cowed out of the delivery. An easy enough in for the two of them. Speak of the devil. Lucian had rather been prepped to raise his hand once more, already growing irate at the fact that the bartender hadn’t seen the empty glasses and took it upon himself to bring replacements, when Lonnie’s clipped exasperation reached his ears. “What are you, my mother? You expect me to haul my ass all the way out here without a drink-“ The foundation of the words was not very courteous, and it was only the heavy sarcasm that let the retort pass as mere bickering among old friends rather than truly confrontational retorts.

Better yet, it was clear that the werewolf had fully intended to growl some more nonsense, until he was leveled with a pointed stare by Alonzo. It wasn’t so much that the large man conceded, rather he knew better than to argue with someone as bullheaded with Lonnie, so the look he gave was placating, as well ad the way he dropped his partially extended arm palm up. So be it; if the Salucci wished to deal with Lucian when the man was sober, then that was his own damn fault, at least he put in some form of effort. “Alright, alright. No slosh, Fine. Have it your way. Buzzkill.” The last word was more or less grumbled half-heartedly under his breath following a relented exhale. He may not be happy about the impromptu halt on his consumption- after all, it wasn’t like he bit Alonzo’s head off when the young son smoked like a chimney, even if it stung his sensitive nose, but Luc got the impression that neither of the two were quite in the mood to argue.

The mild annoyance in the man was quick to melt back to a demeanor of satisfaction at having seen Alonzo procure a few bills. The blond hadn’t said anything, but the smug, shit-eating-grin that was suddenly plastered on his face spoke volumes. If he had known the other man would be the one paring, he would’ve ordered a far more nauseating quantity of drinks. Better luck next time. The parting wave he gave in response to the approaching departure of Alonzo was sloppy at best, and it was evident that the wolf planned to stick around the establishment a bit longer if only to sulk and stare forlornly at the prohibited liquids. “Have fun, make sure you take ‘em to all the sights. Offer to snap a picture for the family collage?” The entire dialogue was coated in sharp sarcasm, as Lucian was quite keen on the fact that this was a side of business Alonzo rather detested.

“Eleven? Yeah, fine. I’ll be there.” The response was curt, likely the most polite the werewolf has been during the course of the entire meeting. The man did not do formalities or manners, he never really had and he likely never would, naturally bar the occasional times he used such polities in utter satire or reluctance.

Lucian would have been more than content to simply daze about in the speakeasy until the time of the clandestine meeting later that night, but it seemed he had already overstayed his welcome if the glances he kept receiving from the bartender and other patrons were any inclination. Plus it was really only torture at this point to get in such an establishment and not be able to partake in any of the under the table, illegal activities. So with a begrudging huff much more suited to a petulant child than a full-grown werewolf, Luc took his leave- after all, Alonzo had already taken it upon himself to cover the fees of the liquor and then some.

Unlike the adopted Salucci, the blond did not have to pimp his time and resources out to some posh tourist in the hopes of getting in good enough graces to seal whatever brewing deal with the Family. Talk about boring. Lucian never had the patience nor acting skills to be able to play such a charade all day- good thing that wasn’t what he was paid for. Alonzo and hit brothers could smooth talk and play the diligent role of tour guide all day, but that was simply not a trait the enforcer possessed. They could kiss ass while Luc was far better at kicking it. Which he supposed were two sides of the same coin, simply parts of the business that needed to get done. The werewolf was just thankful that the higher-ups were cognizant of his utter lack of respect and manners, otherwise, if it were up to the blond to ensure the growth of the Family they’d never seal a shipment or partnership deal. Consider business done for. Perhaps that’s why they were so adamant about keeping him in the field- he would likely fuck up any other aspect divvied out.

Considering that his initial assignment of ensuring the safe delivery of a particular shipment, which had eventually arrived albeit numerous days late, the man’s entire schedule of tasks for the week was essentially screwed up. What a pain, he’d been jumping all over the city for the next few days just trying to catch up. Though perhaps it was a lucky coincidence that Alonzo had requested the meeting to take place all the way out in Brooklyn, Lucian had some errands he needed to run in this part of the city and you’d be damned if you thought he’d trek all this way out just to collect on debts or rough-hand some slobs. Two birds and one stone, after all, the duo could forge some agreement and the man could cross a few blips off his list- a perfect middle ground.

So that was how the remainder of Lucian’s day went. He had never been a proponent of working all day- after all the man was as lazy as a sack of potatoes most days- but he figured since he was always out in his least favorite borough he might as well be somewhat productive. Collect some information here, ‘persuade’ an early advanced fee for protection and slap some wrists right after. Not very eventful in the opinion of the wolf, but an encore set necessity in his line of work even if it was the same mindless job day in and day out. At least he was proficient in what he did; Lucian could accomplish what might take others a week in a day or two if he really put his kind to it. If it meant being able to take the rest of the week off, then the blond would work like a damn plow horse for two consecutive days.

Alas, as he needed to venture back out to the outskirts of Manhattan for their rendezvous, and he wasn’t trying to hurry himself in getting there, he called it quits fairly early into the late afternoon, and began the arduous process of hopping trolleys and even a taxi to get back into familiar territory. At least Lucian had something to show for his few odd hours of work, a black scarf loped rather carelessly around his neck. He’d snagged it from some lady who’d been minding her own business meandering down the sidewalk, and while not a typical klepto the cashmere had looked soft so it was without any hesitation that he helped himself to acquire it, the former owner not giving up much of a fight considering that she likely thought she was about to be robbed of things of far more importance, not some scarf. Lucian didn’t even like scarves, but his suspicions had been accurate; the long fabric was soft.

In fact, it was currently loosely pulled up over his nose, the tail ends billowing over his shoulder in the chilled night winds as he strolled down the poorly lit streets of some shady, back alley road. If he weren’t exactly the type of person you would fear encountering in a place such as this, Lucian himself would be hesitant to walk so boldly out in the open, in the dead of night no less.

The aforementioned pick-up spot had been in the far wings of Manhattan, at the corner of a junction close to Queens but in a rather rundown part of town. And by rundown, dilapidated, and abandoned were terns much more appropriate. The building boxing the corner of where deals would go down looked like something straight out of a horror novel, and the people who perused the streets were even more frightening. The whole general area even had Lucian on high alert, even if his current pose screamed oblivion and blissful unawareness. Even a man such as himself had encountered trouble on the poorly maintained streets, and the amount of times he’s been asked for prices in regards to his ‘services’ while loitering about on the corner waiting for Alonzo was absolutely ridiculous. It would’ve been funny if it didn’t make the werewolf so indignantly irate.

Though it could be due to the fierce cold or just the sheer lateness of the hour that the streets were desolate, save for Lucian of course. He had been leaning haphazardly against a sad-looking lamppost, which had seemed to be halfway between burning through its last bulb. Even though his silhouette certainly appeared to be chilled to the bone, due to his collar pulled high, the scarf covering his nose and mouth, and his arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, Lucian was rather enjoying the weather, even if his toes were beginning to grow a bit numb. He hadn’t been keeping an eye on time, but it was far past eleven when he saw a pair of headlights turn down the road. It was a vehicle out of place in an area like this, far too nice for such squalor, so Luc automatically assumed the driver to be none other than Alonzo, though he maintained his lax stance until he could confirm it. The silhouette of a man wearing a hat could only belong to one fool, so the werewolf was pushing himself off the post, his strides long and seemingly irritated as he stalked over to the passenger’s side. The door had been slung open by the driver, and a rather cheerful greeting had been extended to the werewolf.

Consequently, the response he offered to the welcome dished out was just as sharp and venomous as one he would offer to some sleazy street rat, rather than to someone he's known for a remarkable chunk of his life. “Fuck you’s. Ya’ late. Too busy drivin’ round a new toy daddy bought you to check your watch?” Despite the irritated look on his face and the general foulness to his eyes, there was no real vitriol to the words even if they were rather pointed. A given that you could always count on was the blunt sarcasm of the werewolf. He could be seizing on his death bed, about to kick the bucket and he’d still take a shot at pestering or harassing someone by way of viciously ‘teasing’ them, especially if said person was a Salucci. He was just a bastard like that. And while Lucian was likely aware of the fact that 1) the car was most certainly a quick borrow for the night and 2) Alonzo could get sore about the subject of family, the man figured that if he had to wait around like some dunce at a corner because Lonnie couldn’t be bothered to show up on time, then he was entitled to some low shots.

Even so, the blond was quick to get into the car, shutting the door which had been popped up behind him as he all but collapsed into the seat. On par with his usual lack of respecting property, Luc was quick to prop a leg up on the dashboard of the Ford, even if the position of having his knee bent up was rather uncomfortable due to the enforcers’ size.

Lucian was never one for pleasantries or niceties, and it seemed that he was just absolutely eager to jump at every opportunity to be rude that was presented to him. He was at least unbiased with his cruelties, though he seemed particularly fond of annoying Salucci's, especially ones by the name of Alonzo. As fair was he was dishing out attitude and vitriol, Lucian had a certain knack for getting under the skin of others, and he seemed to get a kick out of it in fact, which was perhaps the reason as to why the man felt no remorse for his comments, even if he were keen to just how rough they would rub Alonzo. It was his nature to be so brash and antagonistic, just as it was in his nature to disembowel and dis-limb those unfortunate enough to find themselves in his sights.

He met the eye-roll and irritation with a far too gleeful, sharp-toothed grin, his cold blue eyes shifting form where they rested on the passing buildings to fixate on Lonnie. "'Cuz I would play so much nicer with the tourist, right. Besides, it's not like- what? Whatta mean?" His train of thought had seemingly been abruptly cut off by the following comment to flow from the son, one which had Luc's brows furrowing in a display of confusion. His eyes had shifted to gaze down at the aforementioned scarf, his hands coming up to pull at the dark fabric as if he needed to be reminded physically that it was there, coiled around his neck. "You don' like it? Really?" If anything, the wolf seemed to be more baffled and blindsided than wounded by the words, as if he could not fathom what had possessed the Salucci to say such a thing. The expression on his face would make one assumed that he had just witnessed someone kicking his dog, rather than commenting on his sense of style. Lucian had thought that the scarf would garner a compliment- not a criticism. Alonzo was always bitching at him for his apparel- how he never dressed appropriately and looked as if he roamed the streets for a living. The words never bothered the man, as was the effect most things had on the wolf. After all, Lucian thought it silly to dress comparably nice for his line of employment- besides, how did you compare with a damn three-piece ensemble? Yet to the evident surprise of Lucian, it seemed that the accessory was not appreciated by his partner. So much for that.

Though suddenly it seemed as if an epiphany had struck the blond, who was a breath away from removing the cashmere with vigor. A calculated glare was shot over to Alonzo, Luc's hands falling from the fabric to instead cross loosely over his chest. "Ya know, green is not a flatterin' color. If you's were jealous of my scarf, you could've just said so instead of being all mean about it." The retort was just as waspish as the heated look in his eyes, and the blond seemed to be considerably pleased with himself for 'figuring it out'. Yes, because Alonzo certainly was jealous over a scarf that Lucian had stolen. Right.

The wolves' nerves seemed to die down following his grumpy remark, though it was apparent that he wasn't all too bothered by the whole interaction. In fact, Lucian seemed rather relaxed at the moment all things considering. While Alonzo was content to fall into silence, be it due to his irritation with the enforcer or because he was mulling over his own thoughts, Luc was comparably pleased with the new-found silence. Even with a leg propped up on the dash, and his long body slightly posed in what seemed to be a slightly uncomfortable position, the large man looked rather relaxed. If you were to glance at the man, you might assume he was sleeping of all things, the way his muscles relaxed and how his head laid reposed against the frosty glass. For once, Luc remained relatively quiet for the remanding duration of the car ride out into the country, save for a few initial exhales. The only response incurred from the large man was following the parking of the car perpendicular to the road, the process of which had been a rather jerky one. Rough enough to where Luc had ended up banging his forehead against the cool glass, the thud of which was drowned out by the agitated hiss that escaped his lips as his body jerked into a more alert stance. Perhaps he really had been dosing off after all. Leave it to Lucian to find the capability to fall asleep during such a high-stress scenario.

The blond had shot a heated stare Alonzo's way, but it was likely that the Salucci was either far too immersed in his own thoughts to notice, or simply couldn't be bothered with dealing with Lucian. Probably a bit of both. The wolf brought a hand up to prod at his unblemished forehead, a childish scowl on his face as he popped open the passenger door. "Hopefully they come about sooner than later," was the only response the blond had offered, though it was evident that Alonzo would not be waiting around for accompanying words as the son removed himself from the vehicle with record speed. Lucian huffed another exhale, before his long legs unfurled out of the car to ground his body on the asphalt beneath. The motion had drawn an irritable grunt from the blond, his shoulders heaving with the motion of stretching his spine out which in turn released a series of pops and clicks. Unlike Lonnie, the wolf hadn't bothered himself with mulling over the cache of weapons that littered the backseat. He saw no need to, not after witnessing the son retrieve a rifle for himself. Luc kept a revolver on his person at all times, and if that ever failed, he always had a contingency plan.

As convenient as it was to have a biologically built-in back up plan, such capabilities came with consequences. One that those who didn't posses the ability to transform often were not privy to. Such consequences would rise up in moments like this.

Humans and wolves, biologically speaking, were very different. Humans were bipedal, having musculature and a skeletal system to reflect that. Likewise, wolves were quadrupedal, something their skeleton and makeup reflected. So to go from such extremes; to have to stretch or snap bones and stitch muscles together or mend ligaments was a process that was taxing. As seamless and rapid as the transformation may outwardly appear, over time it was only realistic that damages would occur. For someone as 'young' as Lucian, the consequences weren't too dire or upsetting. He was considered the top in his game for a reason, after all. But arthritics and joint aches were all too common for the blond, especially after remaining seated or crouched for an extended period of time. As with now, despite having settled in the car in a fairly comfortable enough position, his lower back ached and his knees felt sore. The frigid air outside didn't do much to soothe his aches and pains, but that hadn't hindered the fact that winter was the man's favorite season. After all, such sharp weather was like a balm to his skin that always ran hot.

It seemed Lucian had decided to walk his pain away, as while Alonzo situated himself behind the car to prepare for their blitz attack, the werewolf took it upon himself to trapeze across the road from one end of the trees to the others, his gait more of a saunter to bring some oxygen to his muscles. While the Salucci may have some qualms with the dark, Lucian was rather in his element. Despite the lack of moonlight on such a night like this, there was just enough atmospheric light to activate the blond's night vision, providing a crystal-clear image where the human may only see a few grainy feet, if that. Another perk of Lucian's wild blood, even if the extra layer of tissue in his eye made him more sensitive to bright lights.

The enforcer had been crossing the middle of the road, seemingly prepared to do another lap of surveillance before the aloud ruminations of Alonzo reached his ears. Luc couldn't help but release a scoff, the action resulting in a fleeting cloud of condensation escaping his mouth as his breath met the biting air. "Whatta I look like, your shrink?" It seemed Lucian was as blunt and satirized as always. Nevertheless, the words had been paired with a swipe at the blond's nose with the pad of his right thumb, followed by a sniff and the pulling of his scarf over the bridge of his nose, even if the fabric would not remain there for long. Even if Lucian helped himself to a cigarette every now and then, he had never really gotten his sensitive nose used to the smoldering smoke. Surprisingly, he never complained about the stinging inconvenience, even if Alonzo would chain-smoke days in succession.

Even with the sharp remark, Lucian had strode over to the car, sitting a foot or so down from Alonzo as he descended himself to the ground slowly, his knees aching a protest that was swiftly ignored as the enforcer rested his back against the wheel. It seemed that the blond had been formulating a response though, a thoughtful expression on his face before his mouth opened to bring his musings into fruition, his voice a low, raspy huff. "Eh. I try not to think back on those days. 'S hard not to, though." A pregnant pause, as if Luc had to gather his scattered thoughts once more. "Hell- some days I wish I was back over there though. What I wouldn't give to be back 'tween those trenches and mortar craters." A brief, wistful grimace followed by an expression far too solemn for the likes of Lucian. "Nowadays though, I don' think or feel much. My brain feels fried and my body feels empty. Hollow." A rare moment where the enforcer was grave rather than flippant.

An even rarer occasion for the blond to open up. Lucian was not one to share, he didn't like to bare his soul to the world and express his feelings or emotions. Though if you asked Lucian, he was of the opinion that he no longer possessed a soul. Rather a gaping, festering laceration that had no hopes of healing.