THE GAME ROOM

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THE GAME ROOM

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Play pool, play darts, play cards! Show off your gaming skills here. [/size][/center]

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector wasn't the biggest of New Year's Eve parties. They were rather pointless and contrived. Everyone laughed and drank and asked about resolutions while kissing their past year goodbye. Half of the general population seemed to think that their lives would change miraculously from one day to another, simply because a clock chimed midnight on a certain day. It was ridiculous, frankly, it was stupid as hell, but Hector had to play nice for the evening. He threw another bash, he shook all the right hands before nabbing a bottle of champagne, a bottle of vodka, and a crystal flute before skulking off to the game room that was blissfully empty.

One solo game of pool later and the vodka was half gone and Hector was well on his way to getting drunk for the first time in years.

It wasn't a smart idea really but Hector was intoxicated enough to be beyond caring.

A particularly poorly aimed jab of the pool cue sent a heavy billiard ball skittering off the felt and onto the floor with a thud. Hector winced and let the cue clatter onto the table as he walked slowly over to the fallen ball, using the table to steady his tall frame as he bent at the waist to pick it up. Hector sighed and tossed the yellow ball back onto the felt where it rolled against the edge and rested there.

Grumbling under his break in broken Italian about happy new year's and the moronic tendencies of the populace, Hector poured himself a shot of vodka into the crystal flute and knocked it back with a hiss.

"If I'm going to get through this night without killing someone," Hector mumbled moodily, not finishing his thought, instead getting distracted by the aquarium in the wall.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Ordinarily, Claudius was a huge fan of New Year's Eve parties - it was the perfect excuse to get really drunk and kiss lots of random women he'd never see again. However, ever since Hector's discussion with him in the Cat Scratch Club that night (not to mention his undignified collapse in the Bronx not long before that), the Hamlet Enterprises CEO had decided that this New Year's Eve he was going to make a resolution and stick to it, that resolution being - don't get drunk at the New Year's Eve party. It was a start, right?

Having tried and failed to stay away from the bar in the grand ballroom, Claudius was now half way through a bottle of beer. Beer. Honestly, what was wrong with him this evening? Even the clamour and noise of the party failed to get him in the spirit and so, strangely despondent, bottle in hand, Claudius left the room and wandered.

This place Hector had found for the party really was impressive and Claudius found he was admiring the mansion more than drinking from the beer bottle. He was distracted from his musings on the place however by the sound of something falling on the floor, just behind the door to his left. Curious, Chandler opened the door a crack, in time to see Hector replace the billiard ball on the table and pour himself a shot of vodka.

Amused and surprised by this turn of events, Claudius pushed the door open and made his entrance, pointing at the mayor in an over exaggerated, dramatic gesture.

"Ha!" he cried, triumph pervading every inch of his expression. Clearly he had failed to pick up on Hector's current distemper, else he would not have been so overconfident.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector slammed his shot glass on the pool table and turned around at the sudden yell behind him, holding the pool cue out like a sword. He was prepared to crack it over the head of his intruder until he saw who it was. “Oh. It’s you.” Hector tossed the cue onto the table and took a swig straight from the bottle of vodka. Hector gave Claudius a once over and his dark eyebrows rose in surprise.

“And you aren’t drunk.” Hector circled around the pool table and stood in front of Claudius. It struck as absolutely hilarious at how short Claudius was. Hector sniggered a little and drunkenly threw his arms around Claudius’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug.

Somewhere between his fourth and fifth shots of vodka, Hector had realized he did not get very many hugs. His father beat him, his mother screamed at him, and the mafia didn’t do hugs. Hugs were for sissies. Hector hadn’t been hugged since he was twelve or so and for some reason, in that moment, Hector thought he could start to make up for it.

“Happy New Year, old friend,” Hector slurred slightly, bending over to hug Claudius tighter, leaning on him heavily. He slapped Claudius’s back with a heavy, open hand in the typical male gesture of affection in a hug without bringing anything….extra into it.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

For his part Claudius almost dropped the bottle he was holding at Hector's reaction, a mixture of surprise and amusement at his ferocity. At Hector's words however, Claudius' smirk returned.

"Who else did you think it'd be? And no, I'm not drunk. Aren't you proud of me? In fact I think you're the one who's-" he replied.

As Hector moved around the table to stand in front of him, however, Claudius stopped talking and found himself shrinking away just a little - an apt reaction considering Hector's height in comparison to him, plus the fact Claudius had half been expecting to be assaulted with the pool cue Hector had been wielding only moments before.

He certainly hadn't been expecting Hector to hug him.

“Happy New Year, old friend,”

The sniggering, the strangely tight hug, the slurred words, the back slap...this was very unexpected. Hector didn't do hugs. He was a mayor, he was a mob boss. Hugs weren't in the latter's vocabulary at any rate, yet here Hector was, hugging him. Claudius might have thought something was wrong due to the sudden hug, but there was a better explanation and one Claudius understood all too well.

He couldn't help a small laugh of his own as he hugged Hector in return, although he was slightly uncomfortable with the weight Hector had in leaning on him so heavily.

"You're drunk enough for us both, buddy."

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector continued to hug Claudius for almost a half a minute before pulling back and swaying slightly. He clumsily patted Claudius's cheek and turned to go back to his game of pool. Hector had forgotten what he was doing with it so he started to set up a new game. Hector set up the triangle and started dropping balls into it carelessly. Once it was ready, Hector pulled the triangle off the balls and set up the white ball, taking up his cue again.

"You're drunk enough for us both, buddy."

Hector started to sneer then shrugged it off. That was true he supposed. And as if to prove it, Hector took another drink and fumbled around in his suit pockets for his cigar and lighter. In no time, he was chomping on a lit cigar (Cuban, laws be damned), grabbing another cue and passing it off to Claudius.

"Play ya." Hector chirped, the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth jauntily. He reached into his suit jacket pocket for his wallet and threw down a stack of bills. "Winner gets the cash and an favor to be cashed in at any time."

Hector hadn't played pool in a long, long time. He was rusty. But it was fun. Really fun. And when playing pool wasn't any good, they could sword fight with the cues.

Hector always liked playing Musketeer.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as Hector released him, though he was slightly un-nerved again at Hector's parting gesture and the fact he was swaying where he stood. Claudius knew from experience that Hector was, to put it mildly, rather drunk. However, Claudius was unsure whether to be more amused or alarmed by this - this was a role reversal he never could have anticipated.

As Hector set up a new game of pool, Claudius thought this over and took another, longer sip from his now nearly empty bottle of beer. Why was Hector drunk? It wasn't like him at all. Was he angry about something? Maybe it was stress? Stress was Claudius' excuse often enough.

"Play ya."

Due to his lack of concentration on what Hector was doing, Claudius nearly dropped his beer bottle in surprise as Hector handed him a pool cue. He recovered himself however and was paying attention in time to see Hector extract a wad of bills from his pocket and set them down on the table.

"Winner gets the cash and an favor to be cashed in at any time."

"Now there's the Hector Tormei I know and love," Claudius said with a chuckle, thinking nothing of the phrase as he put down his beer bottle and adjusted his hold on the cue, ready to play.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

"Now there's the Hector Tormei I know and love,"

Hector was leaning forward, getting ready to get the game going and paused. Something in that sentence gave Hector reason to think. Did Claudius really mean that? Or was he just saying it? And suppose he did mean it, did it really matter all that much to Hector? He was reluctant to admit it, but yes, yes it did matter to him. Hector had gone his whole life without love from anyone. Even his mentor in the mafia had never shown him affection in any capacity. Now, he had Penelope but that was different from Claudius. Penelope had only seen the parts of him that Hector wanted her to see. Claudius knew everything about Hector.

It was too bad Claudius wasn't a woman, really.

Hector shook his head and lined up his shot again then took it. He didn't sink any so he moved around the table, letting Claudius have his room. Hector helped himself to a sip of Claudius's beer to cut the vodka and lumbered over to the fridge in the corner of the game room and opened it up. Inside was a variety of alcohol (On Hector's insistence) and Hector shuffled it all around, trying to find something lighter and weaker than vodka.

"We have more beer, we have wine, champagne of course, we have...ooh. Limoncello." Hector pulled out the bottle of Italian lemon liqueur and another bottle of Persecco. Humming, Hector set them on the table and grabbed a couple of wine glasses that were stored by the fridge and started to mix them up.

Bubbly and lemony and good.

Hector sipped his new drink, lighter than before and not nearly as strong as the straight vodka he had been shooting.

"So, Claudius...Hobbit-man....why aren't you smashed?"

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius watched Hector carefully as he readied himself to start the game; he saw him pause, seem to think for a minute then shake his head. Chandler thought nothing of it, figuring Hector was thinking about the game at hand rather than anything he'd said. Not that he'd said anything worth a great deal of thought.

Hector took his shot as Claudius looked on, but none of the balls sunk. Hector didn't seem to mind, moving off to the fridge having taken a sip of Claudius' beer. Ordinarily Claudius would have been indignant, but as it was he was busy lining up his shot and didn't pay all that much attention.

"We have more beer, we have wine, champagne of course, we have...ooh. Limoncello."

Was Hector saying that just to tempt him? Claudius looked over at Hector as he listed off the alcoholic contents of the fridge, wanting more than anything at that point to join his friend and get himself another drink. Since when did he stick to the goals he set himself? Don't get drunk at the New Year's Eve party...what sort of stupid aspiration was that?

Somehow, Claudius managed to refocus his attention on the game of pool, though barely. His shot was poor and he missed hitting the ball he was supposed to. Was he really that much of an alcoholic that the simple mention of booze was enough to damage his concentration like this?

He supposed he was.

Having taken another shot to make up for the last one (though with no success), Claudius picked up his beer bottle again and finished it off deftly. It was as he was doing so that Hector spoke again.

"So, Claudius...Hobbit-man....why aren't you smashed?"

Claudius managed to swallow his beer before chuckling, more at the nickname than Hector's question. In truth, he wasn't sure whether to be indignant or not about the question - did Hector expect him to be smashed? Was he so amazed that he wasn't? Wasn't Hector the one who had told him to sober up? Claudius was being hypocritical in that he wanted a proper, strong drink at that point (God did he want one) but Hector wasn't to know that.

"Weren't you the one who said being sober is a hoot?" Claudius replied nonchalantly, setting the empty beer bottle down before looking over at Hector, one eyebrow raised. Hopefully his old pal would see the funny side.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Hector drank the rest of his improvised cocktail in one go and started to mix another go. When was the last time he had gotten drunk? When he was 20, 22? Somewhere in there. He hadn’t gotten drunk in a very long time, always saying that Claudius had done enough drinking for the both of them. Which, for the past two decades, had been true. With one friend being the town drunk, Hector had always had to take care of him, now he didn’t have to. Now, Hector could readily indulge even with Claudius around.

Was it a smart thing, considering his position in the limelight? Probably not. He was already getting shit from the press for dating such a young, beautiful woman. Penelope…Hector was worried he was falling in love with her. Worried because how the hell would that work? He was a mob boss, The Don, and she was…well, she was the equivalent of a modern day forest nymph. Pure and innocent and perfect.

And then there was him.

Old (well, old enough), jaded, with a dark past and a nasty temper. That thought alone drove Hector to taking a few large gulps of vodka straight from the bottle, swaying dangerously after swallowing.

"Weren't you the one who said being sober is a hoot?"

“Claubiush, I been sober the whole dime I know you.”

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

Claudius had set his empty beer bottle down as he awaited a response before coming to the conclusion he wouldn't fall over (as he would have probably done were he drunk) if he leant against the pool table. He did this as it seemed Hector wasn't going to take another shot just yet...in the sense of the game of pool, rather than the alcoholic sense.

The CEO was surprised to admit, even inwardly, that he was worried. Hector had been trying to help him fix his alcohol problem, yet now he had turned to the drink? He and Claudius had been drinking partners for years, it was true, but Hector was nowhere near as bad as Claudius - in fact, he never got drunk. He always left that to Chandler. So if Hector never got drunk, and he was getting drunk now...

"Holy..." Claudius muttered under his breath, as he at last came to the realization of just what, or rather, who, was causing Hector's current resolve to drink himself under the metaphorical table.

“Claubiush, I been sober the whole dime I know you.”

Claudius felt himself relax a little, though he knew he probably shouldn't considering how dangerously Hector was swaying as he stood. This must just be a one-off. New Year's Eve, the chance to get ridiculously drunk...that was what Claudius had always done until this year. It was as though they had swapped roles, with Claudius now playing the part of the sober friend.

And he wasn't all too sure, despite trying to reassure himself this was a one-off, that he was enjoying the performance.

"So...this is you getting drunk for the first time in around twenty years?" Claudius said, in a joking tone, attempting to be jovial more to keep his own spirits up rather than Hector's (though he really shouldn't be encouraging him, he really shouldn't...). "Good for you, buddy. Bravo!"

He was such a hypocrite.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

"So...this is you getting drunk for the first time in around twenty years? Good for you, buddy. Bravo!"

Claudius's words paused Hector's drinking tirade. The mobster set his drink aside and circled the pool table, trying to line up his next shot without falling over. Hector leaned heavily on his pool cue while looking at the table, then he leaned just as heavily on the table.

"S'not somethin' ta celebrate you moron." Hector finally mumbled, smacking his cue on the table loudly. Hector set up his shot and just as he was about to take it, he pulled back and started pacing restlessly.

He loved Penelope. That's what was wrong. He couldn't focus on anything, even the drinking and the pool was hard to keep in focus because he was in...

Damnit.

"I'm in love." Hector muttered angrily, throwing his cue aside violently. "God fucking damnit." Snarling, Hector resumed pacing, rubbing his face roughly.

This was the last thing he needed. He didn't need to be in love with someone so stunning and perfect and...

He was going to crush her. Hector could just feel it. He would fall for Penelope, she would fall for him, they would be happy for a while, and then he would start to crush her just as easily as he could wring her lily white neck with his monster's hands.

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

"S'not somethin' ta celebrate you moron."

Claudius had the decency to look sheepish, considering he hadn't even agreed with his own words as he'd said them. It wasn't something to celebrate indeed. Instead it was something to be concerned about.

Although in truth he was concerned, Claudius found the expression difficult to muster. Instead he refocussed his attention on the pool table, as though fascinated by the very notion of the game and eagerly anticipating Hector's next move.

As Hector moved away from the table Claudius looked up, surprised. He was about to voice his concern when Hector spoke. Whether Claudius had difficulty hearing what he had said was probably due to his disbelief rather than due to the quietness with which Hector had said the words.

"I'm in love."

Before Claudius could attempt to come up with an appropriate response (or, knowing him, an inappropriate one), Hector had tossed his pool cue aside with a sudden violence and snarled his frustration before resuming pacing once more.

Claudius didn't know what to think or say. This wasn't amusing, nor was it surprising...more like a shock, if anything. How the hell was he meant to respond to this?

"You're joking, right?"

Claudius Chandler was not a man to be serious or profound.

[MAYOR HECTOR "HADES" TORMEI]

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fu-

"You're joking, right?"

"Yes Claudius, this all some big, elaborate, stupid fucking joke to get one up on you." Hector snapped and rolled his eyes. Leave it to a sober Claudius Chandler to be just as dimwitted as a drunk Claudius.

Hector paused for effect (even drunk he knew how to intimidate).

"No I'm not fucking joking, moron. I'm in love." Hector stopped pacing and slumped against the pool table. "And I hate it." Hector growled and groaned, scraping his hand over the stubble that had already grown on his cheeks. He wasn't a man to love. In fact, he wasn't a man to care.

He was the Rich One, the lonely one, the singular ruler of the Underworld. He was like some terrible God, destined to rule alone and bitter for the majority of his reign.

It reminded him of something Greek but Hector couldn't put his finger on it.

"I'm in love...." He repeated. "With Penelope LaFontaine." A sharp bark of self-depreciating laughter escaped him. "Isn't that just pathetic?"

[CLAUDIUS CHANDLER]

"Yes Claudius, this all some big, elaborate, stupid fucking joke to get one up on you."

Claudius threw his hands in the air in universal gesture of defeat.

"I'm sorry, it's just that-" He stopped talking as Hector paused, allowing the silence to have its effect as he thought over what Hector had just revealed. This wasn't a joke. If it wasn't a joke then what the hell was it?

"No I'm not fucking joking, moron. I'm in love. And I hate it."

What was the point of being in love if you hated being in love? How did that even make sense? Oh and since when was Hector the type to fall in love?

Claudius was confused and his expression clearly showed it.

"I'm in love...With Penelope LaFontaine. Isn't that just pathetic?"

Considering Hector's mood and the fact this wasn't a joke, judging by the repetition of the phrase 'I'm in love', Claudius now seemed to realize this was a matter to be treated with delicacy, not his usual brand of crassness.

"Um."

He paused, trying his hardest to come up with an appropriate response.

He failed.

"See, I'm sure it isn't, but who am I to judge? It's not like I'd know, right?" A small laugh, a shrug. All he could offer.