Parenting Advice from Savio Drago

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Brief Title:
Parenting Advice from Savio

Sandman, Savio Drago

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:

Alphonzo's Bar

Finding out he has a kid, Sandman seeks out another parent for parenting advice. He chose to talk to Savio.

Social or Plot:


-----==[ Alphonzo's Bar - Little Italy ]==------------------------------------

A low lit, well furnished, standard Italian bar. Alphonzo's Bar has quiet music playing in the background, sometimes an actual piano is being played for tips. The bar itself is located in the center part of the room and is well manicured, polished, and decorated. The waitress' all wear short, black skirts, yet still hold the feel of beauty and elegance. The bartenders all wear tuxedo shirts and bottoms and have a smile wanting to serve you.

Obvious Exits:
[O] - Chinatown and Little Italy - N

Wednesday evenings are not the most crowded times in a bar which makes it a perfect time for one Savio Drago. Dressed up but not in excess, the criminal is seated at his table, enjoying one of the bar's finest while his security is positioned at nearby tables.

The doors to Alphonzo's Bar is suddenly pushed open forcefully. Not enough to rip it off its hinges, but enough to leave it hanging for a moment. Flint Marko completely in his pssamic form lumbers in and peers around looking for someone. He eyes the security at each table and then looks straight to Savio. While it would appear Sandman is angry, he is not angry at Savio. He holds his hand up to the security indicating not to make a move or attack. He lumbers towards Savio's table taking on a more human looking appearance and then takes a seat. "I need help and you are the only one who I think can help me. . .or I trust enough to help."

Not really expecting for Sandman to stop by, Savio glances up to the sudden entrance while his men are already shifting their hands closer to something unseen on each of them. He is quiet, looking to the angered man before an explanation is given. "Marko." He greets, expression level as he lifts up a hand, giving a bit more talking room around the table for the two. "It must be serious if you're asking me for favors." He glances over towards the bar, "Whatever he asks for."

"It's not a favor. . .Well. . .er. . ." He sinks into his chair almost appearing like a child who has been punished, "I just got out of the joint. . .looks like one my bitches had a kid. . .my kid." Sandman lets out a loud sigh, "I got a fucken kid, man. . . little girl. Didn't even know I could. . ." His left arm is lifted and seemingly without even looking is growing longer and elongating out to grab a bottle of cognac from behind the bar. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Savio's brow raises up, not expecting that bit of information. "Well, this is a predicament indeed." He shifts, moving his glass aside before he leans his arms upon the table, tilting his head closer towards where Sandman is seating, minimizing the amount of volume needed to communicate. "How many know?"

"No one yet. Just the bitch mom. Sheâs some supervillain groupie. I guess, my side got her pregnant." He sinks into his chair, "I got a fucken kid. . .what the hell do I know about raising a kid." Flint pops the cap off the cognac bottle and starts to chug it down.

"Keep the list of those who know small." Savio replies, tone serious as he forgets about his drink for the time being. Hands folding together, "And raising a kid isn't an exact science. You have to adapt to the situation you're given. Or adapt it the best way you can."

"Well, Drago, look at me. I'm powerful as shit, but I am a two-bit thug. Not the right guy to raise a kid. . .And no way Iâm going back to being Baker. . ." The idea of Baker resuming control causes Flint to nearly finish the cognac in another swig. His eyes widen a bit and he shakes off the effects of the cognac, "What about you? How'd you do it with Mikey? When he was a kid anyway. I mean it's not like your dad of the year now, but you always watchinâ out for him."

"But you still want to take care of your offspring." Savio surmises, giving a bit of a chuckle, "Otherwise you wouldn't be worrying about this. And just leave the, as you've described, bitch be to do her own thing." He studies Marko for a bit before continuing, "When I was at your level, occupation wise, I LET Eileen run off with him. That's how I handled it. Not exactly something I was happy with but considering my job and my temper then, it seemed appropriate. Distance was the best security. But, as I rose in the ranks, that was no longer an option."

"Meaning you can't be a part of his life even if you want. . . directly anyway." Flint ponders a moment, "So you sayin' I should have contact with the kid? At all?" While the fear of being a bad father clearly affects Flint the idea of having not even the tiniest of contact with his daughter also bothers him.

Savio shakes his head, "No. No. My situation had complications. I DID seek custody of him after his mother's death. It just ended up going to another. As you gain more notice, You get more enemies who are not likely to just focus on you to get their way." His hands unfold, "When that happens, complete distance is NOT an option if you want to ensure their survival." He extends a hand to reach for his glass, "Although you are a self described two-bit player, your other half was an Avenger. I'd say distance isn't an option for you."

"True, little Keemia could get it from any end actually. . .so stay out of the way, but keep an eye and protect the kid." Flint seems to momentarily stare off at the wall with a blank stare. After a few seconds, he shakes his head and puts his hand to his temple. His head becomes completely sandy making a little wave and then returns to normal as he shakes it off, "Sorry about that."

The criminal gives a nod. "But, you will not be able to be there all the time. Your best option is make SURE that they can defend themselves on their own." He pauses to take his sip, "You have it harder than me, I suppose. It's much easier to do that with a son. Scars and broken bones just add character for them. Considering the mother's a groupie, perhaps you can just talk her in to getting her formal training instead of doing it from the shadows."

"Yeah, well her mom is a druggie too. . .I gotta think on all this stuff." Sandman lets out sigh as the bottle is definitely done. He hurls back in the direction of the bartender and bar, but an elongated arm grabs it and simply places it safely but firmly on the bad.

Savio grows quiet, looking to the display of contradicting behavior, "The both of you, it seems." He lifts up his glass, "If it's any consolation, I'm not the type to go after family for what someone else does. I consider it tacky."

Quirking a brow at what Savio says, "Yeah, well good thing Iâm not concerned about that anyway." Flint offers in response. He stands up, "I haven't even seen the kid yet. I think I'll pay a little visit unseen of course." He bows, "Thanks Drago." He heads out.


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