felixsecada

[felixsecada]

His smile doesn't fade, though, as he listens to what she wants. A relatively easy promise to make, considering he has his finger on the pulse of manufacturing. "Clean, then." There is more money to be had in not keeping them clean. After all, they're in the business of trying to increase addiction, not maintain it.

But it's a request he can comply with.

He doesn't quite get the appeal of it, either way, but doctors will be doctors - and doctors of the mind are especially more of a different breed. "Your wish.." As they say. He gives a shallow mock bow.

She smiles, equally as sincere. For someone so far from a businesswoman, Anaïs does like the dealing. You're welcome, is what that grin says.

Then— an offer. How unexpected, and thrilling.

"...Keep your drugs clean," she then says, "Mr. Secada. As a psychiatrist, it's all I care about." Alas, Anaïs cares about a whole lot more than just that — but for the purposes of now, yes, that will do.

"A damaged mind is one thing, but a damaged mind beyond understanding is another."

[felixsecada]

"Don't ask, eh? Y'know that only makes me more curious." Felix laughs, and slides down into a seat across from Vanya. It's a rare sight to see him up from the lab, but he doesn't give a shit, so long as the work gets done. And it does. No complaints.

He drums his hands on the table, looking at the pad and the remnants of the paper, telltale signs of tearing. Interesting, to say the least.

"Don't worry, you're not in any shit or nothin'. Just wanted to do a little check in, see if we can do some discussin'." He takes a sip from one of the disposable cups of coffee in, and slides over the other. "Got anything good for me?"

━ OPEN STARTER

➥ He had been fiddling with the pen and paper all morning, tearing off pieces, tucking them into his pocket because littering and wasting paper were BAD manners. He'd make a use for it. Couldn't risk anyone with a half a decent brain finding it and stealing his work. And perhaps he'd find the answer to his mind's runaway thoughts somewhere in the scribbles and idle formulas scratched on paper later. Vanya wasn't very good at thinking when he was distracted. The person he had come to meet likely wouldn't have any comprehension of what he was thinking about, still, he couldn't risk the slight chance that they would understand and ask him about it. Much too complicated to explain or drum up some lies about. He sees a body come closer and he flips over the lined paper pad, looking sheepish while blue eyes are raised to meet the other. "I don't know. Don't ask."

[felixsecada]

She's right - as she tends to be. Felix finds himself smiling, despite himself. He nods at her assessment of where and makes no move to step backwards when she steps forward. When the heir whispers in your ear - you listen and take it to heart.

His gaze follows her and his heart thrums in his throat - excitement for a new deal with the Syndicate, of more money pouring into his pockets. It's power, and he will wield it just as easily as they do.

"Thanks for providing the angle, the opportunity." He murmurs, sincere. Her advice will be used accordingly. He lifts his chin to watch her more closely. But - "And what is it that you'd like me to do for you.. in exchange for this.." He hums, "..kindness."

"If we spoke in the shadows, it would raise more than a few alarms," Anaïs says. "However, if we speak here... there's a million and one ways one might just get away with it."

Anaïs nods, as though to signal, It makes sense. There's a great overlap in their clientele — the rich like their danger, just not as much as they like their drugs. "Manhattan, I'm guessing." Beat. "I'll let him know." She pauses then, taking a step closer. Her voice drops closer to a whisper: "...What he will hear, is that there's a gap in the market. If you'd like my advice, Mr Secada, you should present to him all the reasons why you need to be the one to provide this service, not him."

She steps back again. "Then, it will be a yes."

[felixsecada]

Nightly walks usually amounted to nothing special, just a way to breathe in the rank air of New York like it was something fresh - but he enjoyed the idea of taking a stroll without the watchful eye of someone making sure he wasn't going to step out and get hurt or.. something along those lines.

Hands in his pockets, he fiddled with the lighter in his pocket - a reminder to never fuckin' use it - as he strolled, only to have the relative quiet of the night (a joke, really - this part of town was never silent by any means) interrupted by an expletive hissed from an injured man.

Turning his head, he hummed, interest piqued.

"Y'all right there, bud?" Whoever it was wasn't recognizable to him in the least, but.. it was part of the image he maintained to others. "Need help?"

— 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹

— CENTRAL PARK ; LATE EVENING

A deal had gone sour. Or rather Laurie’s ‘clients’ had managed to backstab him. He’d asked a fair $2500 in exchange for a platinum oval cut diamond ring he'd stolen from some socialite at a party (he gatecrashed it, of course) and the clients seemed willing enough. That’s probably where Laurie went wrong. He was desperate to sell it, knowing the owner had called the police and one very irritatingly determined detective was hot on the case. The longer Laurie had it in his possession the more likely he was to find himself in equally hot water.

He hardly thought that $2500 was worth fighting over. He’d tried it on with people he’d never met- as he tended to do- and it didn’t work out. He assumed that they knew the ring wasn’t worth that much and that’s why, when there was no-one else in sight, they exacted their wrath upon him, knowing he’d be outnumbered too. That’s why he never went to the more shady areas of town, especially as night fell, but a meeting in the evening was the dealbreaker and discreet for both parties and Laurie obliged. Not gonna make that mistake again...

So the 'clients'- three men dressed in black, none of which had any distinguishable features- had fled with their easy cash and left Laurie to pick himself up off the ground. The skin below his left eye was starting to bruise and was stinging like hell, his nose was bloody, his knuckles were sore from trying to fight back, and his pride was badly damaged. But at least there were no broken bones or loss of life. Although if Laurie ever saw those bastards again he would be sure to have them meet their maker. He wasn’t a violent man, but when needs must and his own life was on the line it was his only option. Maybe he would bring a knife or gun next time- that would sort the problem out.

“Fuck!” He hissed as he slumped onto the bench, not caring that someone was now well within earshot.

[felixsecada]

He does agree with her there, as much as he might loathe to admit that other's misfortune is what propels him forward. Admitting it out loud is an admission of guilt, of being far too ambitious for the greater good he wishes to perpetuate. Even if 'good' is too loose a word for it.

"Points?" A soft laugh, at that. "Is this the appropriate venue for deal-making?" Though he knows she'd whisper in her father's ear, and briefly wonders why she doesn't take up a spot -- or if she has. His eyes narrow in thought for a moment, and then, finally - "I do need some product moved to your section of the city, finding some difficulty getting through certain neighborhoods easily."

They're surrounded by the enemy, no matter which way they turn. "And if there's anything you and yours would like in return.."

"I don't know — luck comes in many ways." Some would claim that Andrea's demise had been Felix's good fortune, but she wouldn't suggest it out loud.

Anaïs laughs, "There are worse kinds of tax." She look around them, gently shifting the hold on her purse's handle from one hand to the other. "Are there any points I can help expedite for you?"

[felixsecada]

"Andrea was wonderful while we had her." And he does miss her - despite his ambitions, despite how he wished to have been the one to oust her himself. The dueling sides within him are ever-present to this day, even in his rule.

But is he a miracle? That's hard to say. And not something he wants to judge for himself, really. If the Cartel members say so, then sure.

"We can only hope, yeah?" He wants to be lucky. Strives for it. "Figure y'all can help facilitate some'a that luck when we get down to brass tax."

Truth be told, the words only ever belonged to Anaïs, not her father. But men often do need a push, in subjects of diplomacy.

"I only met Andrea once, and she was perfectly personable. Alas, good leaders aren't usually personable. But sometimes, miracles happen."

She smiles. "Are you a miracle?" In anything but the religious sense of the word. "As a name, Felix is a good omen. Lucky."

[felixsecada]

Felix waits as Ezra works through ideas, and nods just once - the muscles in his jaw working slightly, as he thinks. Family's a bad idea. So are the underbosses, captain - a lower rank, though. Might not be unreachable.

It goes along with his conversation with Santi - about ideals. About making them scramble.

"I do like th' sound of all that." He hates working with cops himself, there was a reason he subscribed to the idea of the Brotherhood back in the day. But they are a means to an end. And fuck if they don't need that right now.

"We got any boys in blue willing to step in for that? Highly doubt it. But we can organize somethin' like that, f'sure. Gotta knock brains."

Ezra pauses. "It was a bad idea.", he climbs down from the idea, takes a sip of his drink. "Who is he even close to?", he asks, "I wouldn't go for family. Maybe there's someone in the lower ranks. Someone that's not all too important to the whole club, but to him."

Beat.

There's an idea.

"What if it's not us, who does it.", Ezra asks, "What if it's the police." Eyebrows furrowed, he turns to look at Felix, "What was the Brotherhood meant to fight against? Unfair violence. It was meant to rebel, wasn't it? What if there is unfair violence, that has Cartel written all over it? In our handwriting? What if we break down one of their structures? Not by deaths. Arrests, if you will. Maybe we lock one in, send them back without their teeth."

Another beat.

"Depends on how cruel you want to go. Maybe something actually blows up."

[felixsecada]

Fine leaves a lot to be desired, so he watches her carefully. June's hard for them both - more so her, than him. But he wants to make sure she's alright. Make sure she's not going to spiral. "Glad no one's botherin' ya. But you know you can tell me whatever." He hopes she knows.

There are.. plenty of things to worry about these days. Being the leader has brought its fair share of new things, too. "Always, Gab." A slight laugh. "But I'm not here to dump my shit all over ya."

Her apartment is a mostly private place, with only a few truly having a run of the place. Her tio is one of them, and despite their relatively new relationship and huge gap of years in between, there's no one in the city that she trusts more. And he's one of the only ones who understands what the month of June brings for her.

She sits and Nico immediately hops onto her lap with purrs. He's been her permanent shadow over the last week, picking up on the old anxieties that trauma left behind. "Fine," she says faintly. "No one bothers little ol' me," she says, and that's how they both prefer it. "What about you? Things to worry about?"

[felixsecada]

Santiago is the voice of reason that brings Felix back - always. He sucks in a breath, and nods, knowing the man is right. They both know that they need to wait, bide their time. It's the best way to do these things, the best way to get the upper hand. Where the Brotherhood goes loud, they can force themselves to be quiet. And vice versa. For whatever reason they need to be - it's always a yin and yang.

"It will, yeah. And time's in fuckin' short supply these days it seems like." But he knows he won't make a move without the guidance of Santi or Ezra. He sucks his teeth together and nods. It might not be a bad thing, the Brotherhood getting cocky.. but he hates it. Sets his veins on fire with an anger he hadn't felt since he was still young.

He hums, though, waiting in silence for a bit - thinking. What do they rely on? Power, money, arms trade. Ideals. They operate in ideals. "They need to feel like they're making a difference. That's the thread that ties 'em together. Don't think there's a way to attack that. But.."

Beat.

"Maybe a way to distract them. We went after their drugs when we split. Supply chains are vulnerable in transit."

❝ In a way, we all are. ❞ He too would've preferred if everything could've been solved in a blink, but that was unrealistic and a dangerous way of going about it. ❝ But we understand that what we want to do won't always be what needs to be done. They don't just yet. ❞ His conviction about the way he did not want to move was one of the reasons Santi trusted Felix; not only because he fully agreed with it but because he had the balls to say it even knowing it was the exact opposite of what everyone wanted from him. ❝ It's pointless. We get rid of him, another rises and then we'll have to deal with that one too. It's an endless fucking cycle that will solve nothing. What we need to do is destroy The Brotherhood as an organization, as people and, most importantly, as a goddamned idea. And that, that will take a little time. ❞ But the payoff would feel fucking heavenly. ❝ And you see that as a bad thing ? I think it's perfect. Let them. When one gets cocky, they inevitably get careless. The more they underestimate us, the less they'll feel the need to be prepared for our next move, which, for us, is ammunition. ❞ A couple seconds in silence are used to gather his own thoughts, to decide if his idea is worth sharing. Quickly he remembers this wasn't a business pitch, he could just say what was on his mind and have a discussion with the other about whether it was a good plan or not. ❝ What's the one thing they rely on the most aside from the kid and his cult leader bullshit ? That is what I think we need to start with. Discretely hurt the thing they can't function without, they'll be so desperate to fix it quickly that all of their focus will be zeroed in on it and that gives us an open for everything else. ❞

[felixsecada]

👮 Has my muse ever had sex in public?

Absolutely hell no.

sex + romance headcanons.

[felixsecada]

🎆

Felix would have to be monogamous, if someone ever caught his eye for sure. He doesn't open up enough to many people, and once he's in it - he is in it wholesale, there's no one else for him. It just takes a while to get to that point.

sex + romance headcanons.

[felixsecada]

"Nah, son, no one likes being that wrong about anyone." He'd been wrong before, too. He'd seen brothers turn against brothers once upon a time. Seen how fucked things can really get when it's the family you love you're meant to be killing. He heaves a sigh, and claps his hands against his thighs.

"Whatever you decide to do, just lemme know what it is and when. Ain't lookin' to give ya permission, just lookin' to make sure I know how to prepare."

As for the laundromat.. "I'd ask Gabriela, she's good with the money like ya are." Felix is, too. Had to be, being at the top. "No one I can think of off the top'a my head, but I trust ya judgement. Y'all's judgement."

Even when they're wrong about someone. His jaw clenches, and he shakes his head, as if thinking to himself about all the years he'd seen people come and go. "I look forward t'seein' what y'all do. Make me proud."

-"He hurt ya?"-

Raffa said nothing. Just looked at Felix. That was enough. Useless words that Raffa didn't need to spill. It was obvious. He'd been wearing his hurt like a black eye. And he knew better. But he was insulted. And the disrespect ate at him.

He listened. Because hearing Felix talk this much was not something you didn't fucking listen to. And he was right. It was his hurt. His pride. His embarrassment. And in the big picture... it was nothing. He thought about the people that had always had his back. Didn't just say it. But lived it. Kept his true family safe. Made sure he had money for them. Felix had put his finger exactly on what was fucking bothering him so much. He had thought Ric was smarter than that. And he'd been wrong. Ric would have talked to him if he had truly given a shit. It wasn't an alien abduction, it had been a choice that the other man had made. But a part of him was still in mourning. Because it was a death. And should be mourned. Raffa nodded his head. It stung his pride something fierce. But it had to be about loyalty and respect, always. The hurt still twisted in his gut but he could forge it into something mean, something strong. Beat the pain into a sword, into armor. Like always. Just another layer to put on. "Si, Patrón. I understand. I just didn't like being that wrong about someone."

Raffa nodded when Felix said Ezra's name. But didn't elaborate. Ez's shit was his to share. He sat up straighter at being given a green light to respond. A lot of bloody things came to mind. A lot of big splashy messages. But he would need to talk to Ez about what the other wanted to do before they made a decision and told Felix. 'To soothe that ache of betrayal.' "Thank you." He reached out and took his cut of the money, slipping it into his baggy coat. "I'm gonna start looking for a replacement. Do you have anyone I can look at first? If not I'll bring you the short list once I get a group."

[felixsecada]

He nods, understanding. Felix doesn't have a cover job, doesn't want on - but he respects those in the org that do. Gets it, even. It helps them out, especially in Santiago's case.

"Contemplatin'." He nods in affirmation. "They're chompin' at the bit for somethin', I know they are. Hell, sometimes I am, too." He hates what happened, how it happened, but it did crown him king. There's always a part of him that wonders how Andrea would handle it - would she hesitate, wait, plan? Or jump right in?

"So many fuckin' worries, Santi. Heavy is the head, et fuckin' cetera." He spits out a soft curse underneath his breath. "I don't want to go after the boy -" Tristan. "- He ain't scared enough yet. And now I've got the other shit with the laundromat attendant, too." He pauses, reaches for his toothpicks and chews at the end of one before speaking again. "Feels like if we don't move soon, they're gonna get cocky." Beat. "They're already cocky."

❝ Considering I spend most of my time here and the rest of it is split between home and operating rooms... no, not really. ❞ Santiago contemplated leaving his day job perhaps three times a day, but then he'd remind himself that it provided him with connections that could be good for business in the long run and convinced his spirit that staying was the better option. ❝ Are you still thinking of retaliation and the best course of action ? I know everybody's in your ear wanting action but, like I said before, it's better to take time and come up with a good plan than to act quickly and do a shitty job. Unless this is a different worry altogether. ❞ It was hard to figure out Felix these days.

[felixsecada]

Felix nods, just once, as Raffa speaks. Restraint, Secada. He licks his lips, and chews on his lower one - still thinking through what might done, if anything. "I trust he didn't know. No worries there."

What does worry him - "He hurt ya?" Emotionally. From what he understood, Raffa was close to the boy and - Without waiting for an answer, he nods. "I understand. And I get ya feel insulted, f'yourself and us."

There's a but here, and Felix needs to say his piece. "We should have pulled him in sooner, yeah. But - Now? He's nothin'. A small fleck of annoyance. He amounts t'nothin' but a mosquito bein' squashed in our hands." Hard swallow, still fiddling with the cigarettes. "The choice he made proves that you never mattered to him. Loyalty means everything. Respect is worth even more, y'understand me, Raf? This proves he ain't ever respected you. They fed him a crock of shit and he ate it up without a second doubt. He would have talked to ya first if he did."

He sighs, already exhausted from speaking. From dealing with the shit on his fuckin' shoes. "I ain't gonna respond. I'm not the one insulted. But you? Ez was close, too, yeah? You two have my blessin' t'do whatever is you deem necessary - whatever helps soothe that ache of betrayal." It's left unsaid that he needs to be told of the decision, before or after.

Raffa sat, knowing that the count was right. Because he'd had his hands on all the money before it ever touched Felix's desk. It was his job to make sure every dollar that came through TopWash was squeaky clean. No matter what else dirty shit was going on. That was his job. To make sure the money was clean. In general he liked the way Felix did shit. It was quiet, subtle, no bullshit. The shortage with the loss of his best employee that also worked a lot of unclocked over time was hurting the laundromat. And him personally. But that didn't change how much money was due.

He nodded when he was told which was his cut. But he too didn't reach for the money. Not until Felix touched the cigarettes. His face was set in his typical serious expression. "Besides the stuff you've probably already heard about, Patrón? I feel like I let them steal something from us. I should've pulled the kid in sooner. But he didn't know shit about what went on. I made sure of that." He paused, "The money is good. That hasn't changed. One small issue that Ez and I resolved with one of the crews. But ours our falling in line." He paused, "When you decide how we are going to respond for all the insults. I wanna be part of it."

[felixsecada]

closed: @gabrielalozano where: gab's apartment

He'd already made himself at home, pouring himself some water - nothing heavy, always needing a clear head. Felix sits into one of the chairs and heaves a sigh after taking a sip. "Ain't had much time to catch up lately, eh?"

He gestures for her to sit, too. "How's life? You need money? Anyone causin' ya trouble?"

[felixsecada]

closed: @santiagordonez where: the warehouse

Hands in his pockets, Felix's face and gaze was angled intensely towards the ground - jaw clenching. He'd wanted this, but there's always the doubt of it being right, and the doubt of not being prepared enough. He'd worked hard to make sure the people in the lower rungs, spread out over their territory would be well taken care of. It's hard to determine when action is needed, and when to let someone else take care of it.

"You talk to anyone else much, lately?" He clicks his teeth together and looks up, finally. He's tired, that much is obvious.

[felixsecada]

closed: @raffa-ledesma where: the warehouse

Felix flicked through the bills in front of him, double and triple checking the sum in front of him. Only when he's satisfied does he finally push a stack towards the other sitting in front of him. The expression on his face is neutral as always, but there's a slight pinched quality to his lips and forehead. As if he's been overthinking and analyzing - as he does constantly.

"Here's your cut, Raffa." He murmurs, and fishes into his pockets for a pack of cigarettes, setting it in front of him but not going to get one out. It's a reminder to practice restraint. "What news?"