Grandiose Romanticism or Politics [Thorne]

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69th and Bonnair, Falaccio's Italian Cuisine was under new management and renamed, but remained close enough to City Hall to maintain itself among the traditional minded set in politics and crime, it was a dark wooded place with frosted windows to maintain privacy made up of nothing but dark corners and booths that served as sanctuary for the shadier back deals of the political world and the world of organized legitimate business. 



Money flowed freely though these halls amongst the cigar smoke and the beer and the wine, on the television at the bar, Gotham Live played on the screen, and on another screen there appeared to be a football game, the Gotham Rogues playing against the Central City Bolts, with the Rogues down two touchdowns. Lex Luthor settled into the booth, dressed in a normal business suit, he had a box on the table, preparing for his meeting with Councilman Thorne. He came to the Councilman's baliwick out of respect, he understood how these sorts of things went. Expanding into Gotham City, it helped to make good friends.

The faint clinking of glasses at the bar as it cleaned up and the faint hum of conversation meant this place was the perfect combination of public, open, yet private. Lex Luthor appeared faintly bemused by the restaurant, it's menu. The whole shebang. He enjoyed it, as if it were part of a private joke that only he understood. He waited on this semi-formal business meeting alone at the booth. Without an apparent care in the world, a quick set of text messages on his cellphone, a review of e-mails, and then he looked up at the gentleman approaching. "Councilman. So good of you to come. I hope that the commute wasn't too inconvenient." 

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The familiar, hard scent of oak, tobacco, and a hint of stale alcohol welcomed Thorne at the door. Falaccio's – or BJ’s as it was crassly referred to around the municipal offices – was hardly known for its food, but managed to hobble along on first-rate service and heavy pours, changing menus every couple years and owners only slightly less frequently. Its proximity to Gotham City Hall and various administrative buildings served as the restaurant’s lifeblood, pumping in heavy crowds for happy hour each day, but business was generally scant on evenings and weekends.

It took several scans to find his visitant. Whether or not it was due to the game, the chophouse was bustling tonight. As he wound his way around the outside of the room, several patrons, presumably city employees, gave a nod or wave of recognition.

The communiqué had been unexpected, but welcome. An outspoken critic of Superman and the superhero community en masse, the councilman regarded him as a sort of kindred spirit - though Thorne was required to tread much more cautiously in his campaign against Gotham's self-proclaimed champion. Were Lex Luthor to set his sights on Gotham City...

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Mr. Luthor." Thorne gave him his most engaging smile and extended a hand before shrugging off his coat and sliding into the seat opposite the magnate. "Certainly not! Though, I have to say, if you were looking for fine, Italian dining - this isn't it." He glanced at the back of a menu over the rim of his glasses. "Decent pizza, but, as I recall, they do have a wonderful spinach manicotti. I wouldn't recommend the sirloin."

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He laughed as he shook Mr. Thorne's hand at the statement, settling back down into his seat across from the powerbroker across from him. There were those who knew where the powers of politics were in this city, and those in the know understood that the wind no longer blew from the office of the Mayor. 

"I've heard so many rumors about this place, I just to come see it for myself. I felt the same way about you, councilman. Besides, this place is . . . symbolic, in many ways." The waiter with the fresh salsiccia in bechamel in penne passes by. Luthor smiles as he says "I've heard that this is something of the seat of power in Gotham City, where important decisions are made. A place for local flavor, even if the food is not the best flavor."

He smiles at this and says "However, I am hoping the food here will improve before too long. I understand the new owner of the restaurant is interested in improving the quality. Then again, I've been enjoying some of the fine dining in Gotham city. I don't know if you've had the opportunity to meet Mr. Dahlmaine, but he's been giving me quite the culinary tour of the city. Quite impressive, I really should spend more time in Gotham." The quiet statement, the suggestion left in the air.  

He nods his head saying "But being here, is about respect, Mr. Thorne. I was raised to understand the importance of respect." He slides the box across the table saying "This, is simply a sign of respect. Imported, of course. A token, perhaps." The cigars were imported, high quality, expensive. Known among aficionados. Difficult to attain, but with the right connections a token, of the sort the wealthy give when money no longer has meaning. But a sign, nonetheless, of support. 

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“Heh. Be careful of rumours." Thorne settled against the cushioned back, rubbing the coarse underside of his chin with the back of his hand. "I can’t speak for Metropolis, but they're a dangerous thing in Gotham." The corner of his mouth twitched as he held Luthor's gaze. "In a city awash in its own blood and sweat and tears, rumour and resentment often lend to ill thought and action."

His attention followed Luthor's as the server passed. Thorne couldn't see the dishes balanced on the small tray, but the palpable tang of prosciutto and garlic had him salivating. "Passable to be sure."

He lifted the drink menu out of the table caddie, giving it a cursory look as Luthor continued. "Dahlmaine." He licked his molars in thought. The name was unfamiliar. "I can't say I have, but if he's any sort of a critic, we could certainly compare notes."

Thorne set the wine list down at Luthor's insinuation, folding his thick hands on the tabletop. And there it is. The mere mentioning of a thought to "spend more time" in Gotham City was more revelation than insinuation. Save the Bat, no one sought to "spend more time" in Gotham - not even her favorite, prodigal son, Bruce Wayne. "I won't mix words, Lex, you'd be a welcome addition to the skyline." This isn't a meeting, this is an opening move.

Gingerly, he accepted the box. It's a rare thing for someone to know the difference between Cuban cigars and good Cuban cigars; Montecristo No. 2s were the latter. "This is very generous." He ran a thumb along the sealed edge. "Thank you, sir."

The waitress had doubled back and approached their table. A pretty little interruption, she introduced herself as "Jen", though her name tag said "Jennifer", and gave them a rundown of the specials. The bruschetta pizza sparked his interest, but most the list was hardly special as they touted the same items week to week. "We may need a moment, dear." He gestured at Luthor. "Let's start with a drink, eh? The first round is on me."

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"Who am I to turn down a generous offer for a drink.." He smiles as he says "I should get the meal and the next round. It's only fair, after all. And you know how I feel about fair play." He smiles to the man, putting the menu aside, he's already memorized it. He waits for the man to make his decision, listening and then nodding "I find that rumors like most indirect sources of information are . . . useful to guide the attention, but poor markers for decisions. I prefer my information directly, and confirmed." He smiles as he settles in "Because rumors in Metropolis can be just as dangerous as rumors anywhere else. Moreso, in some cases. You don't have a mad alien dominating your skies, and striking based on hearsay."



He makes an order quickly "Aperol Spritz, and throw on a Cicchetti of the chef's choice while we decide on the meal." He looks back to the councilman, eye contact maintained, casual grace, comfort. "And please, councilman. Do let me pay for the apertif. It, again. . . is only fair." He smiles faintly. 

"You'd enjoy Mr. Dahlmaine, he's a man of unique passions and refined tastes. An epicurean in every way I am not, I find that my lifestyle improves considerably just by standing nearby, he tends to attract the finer tings in life, and I can honestly say all that I know about enjoying these finer things, I've learned through my association with the man. He's a good friend. . . and I make it a habit never to forget my friends, Mr. Thorne."


The opening move was welcomed and returned with an equal part. "And might I add, that I'm happy to hear that you think so. I feel that Gotham City could use . . . some significant investment . . . and please, think nothing of the cigars. It's only polite to bring a gift when visiting someone's home, especially when the matter is so delicate."