Francesca Messina sat in a white dress - the sort one wore in spring, defiantly, at the head of a long hardwood table.  Her hands folded neatly in front of her.  Her chin raised just slightly her eyes cold and thoughtful.  The table's location was that of the inner most depths of The Ivory Tower, the place to which only Made Men and women had a key.

She had sent runners to find a motley of gangsters today - SullivanBlack her grim and sometimes troubled right hand.  The man to whom death was a co-worker on more than one level.  Matty the woman who she'd come to know and respect as a mother figure within the crew - gentle when needed and a harsh disciplinarian who brooked no foolishness from those who would harm themselves or others on her watch.  

Then there were the newest Made Men.  Allera .  A dangerous woman to be sure.  Sexy in all the ways men desired, and as lethal as the guns she was so very good at using.  She had been made a Captain first for a very good reason.  Raconteur the man was every inch a 'mountain' as Tony was - hard in all the ways that made other men fear and respect him; but inside he was more.  Frankie could see the love and devotion he'd had for The Ivory Tower and it was for this reason he'd earned his button.  And lastly, Francesco or as most people had come to refer to him 'That GangsterPriest ' 

She'd summoned these people to her today for business.  After much hard work and some loses, the Tower was finally ready to shift into gear and run at full steam.  She couldn't be more proud of the people she'd chose to help her do this, each one had more than earned their stripes and now, they were going to make The Ivory Tower a name to be remembered.

The door came open, "Come in, please take a seat."  She said motioning to the long table with seats all around it.  Wine decanters were placed on the table as well as crystal stemware for everyone to use.  Paper and pens were placed in front of each seat, in case someone needed to write down something for later.  "Once everyone is here, I'll get us started."

Francis entered after a stutter step. Sort of. He and Raconteur nearly took the doorway apart, as the out of uniform priest tripped over himself and shouldered his fellow Tower Guardian and Gang Leader, accidently causing a small commotion. The door stayed open for a bit as the priest gathered himself up off the corridor floor, coming off second best.

With a red face and a brush of his jacket, in he entered. He gave a flustered nod to the Don then took a seat at the long table. He took a spot toward the far left side away from Frankie. No reason to it, it's just where he felt comfortable sitting as he entered. He also figured Matty and Sully would take closer seats. He hunted around for a drink whilst drawing one of the crystal glasses along the table to sit infront of him.

"Um. Do we have any water?"

Frankie arched an eyebrow watching as the first of her guests entered.  She didn't say anything, merely glanced down at Uffa who was seated near the door to see that she hadn't been spooked.  Thankfully she hadn't gone rigid and fallen.  When Francesco came to the table she made note he did not try to sit in the seats nearest to her - but she said nothing of the observation.  When he asked for water she nodded.  "The door behind me leads to a small kitchen,"  She rose up from her seat wondering if maybe Francesco had been drinking already today and that was why he refused the wine - it would excuse his entrance.  "I need to go there anyway, why don't you let me get you the water."

She went down to his seat and picked up the glass and walked into the kitchen, where she allowed a smile to tug up the corner of her lips.  It was kinda funny.  Filling the glass she looked around until she spotted the cherry cordials and grabbed one off the tray and popped it into her mouth.  The crunch of the milk chocolate shell was satisfying and as the sweet fluid washed over her tongue she inhaled.  Truly sweets were the one joy in life that never disappointed.  Sadly, she feared her love of them would one day make her as fat as old Saldono.

Walking back into the room, still chewing her sweet she gave the glass to Francesco with a smile and returned to her seat to wait for the others.

As the door shut, the edge of its hinge seemed to catch on something in the hall. Raconteur's voice could be heard grumbling as he tried to pull himself up from the corner he'd flopped to when he and GangsterPriest had absent mindedly collided. He braced his arms to the wall on either side of himself and muscled his feet back under himself which let the door finish shutting. He re-opened it and walked through shaking his head and straightening out his rumpled suit while unable to suppress a grin as he saw the flustered priest. Raconteur bowed his head for a moment before looking up and meeting her eyes directly. "Don Dicaprio, always a pleasure ma'am." 

He decided to take the seat opposite to Francis on the far right and nodded to the priest as well. "Father Francis, I enjoy your company but we really need to stop meeting that way." He chuckled a bit as he continued. "It would be nice if we could run into each other less aggressively some time." Realizing that what he said perfectly summed up what just happened he burst out in a full laugh. "And less literally too!"

Francis sighed with a grin, letting some hot air waft out of his mouth.

"You're not wrong. I don't know what it is."

He joined the laughter, then shook his head as he took a sip of the water Frankie had delivered. Such hospitality, he thought. And he then wondered where Carmine was. And if his role would be one of fetching water for a dehydrated co-worker instead.

He knew what it was though. Working at Joe's Cup had him up all hours. The place never seemed to close. And when it did, it really didn't. In a pocket behind the coffee shop was an underground after hours - and practically all hours - spot. He managed to somehow end up in the den last night for the first time. Curiosity killed the cat they said. Hopefully it wouldn't also kill the priest.

"Well, SullivanBlack Matty and Allera should be along soon and then we can get this whole thing started.  I'd like to make sure we're all out at a decent hour today - I finally found a new cook and I suppose to have a very good dinner waiting for me on the table tonight.  I mean to enjoy the hell out of every bite."  Frankie stopped herself from apologizing for saying hell in front of Francesco.

"Perhaps I could have you both over for a meal sometime?"  She felt stupid saying the words.  No doubt being asked to dine with a Don didn't seem like a request, and couldn't ever be just a request.  No one would refuse to enjoy a meal with their Don, how dumb was she to think otherwise? 

She she shifted in her seat.  She was suppose to be fearsome, strong, and resolute; but in truth she felt lonely most of the time, isolated, and listless.  She sincerely hoped putting the crew on track would at least give her some small sense of fulfillment now that everything else was so damn lack luster of late.  What she wouldn't give for just one night of true joy...

A single key could be heard in the door before it clicked and swung open. With his hands full of files (and even two folders in his mouth) Sullivan shoved his way through the door and to the table, setting everything down.

"Matty should be right behind me," he mumbled out through the folders in his mouth before spitting them on to the table.

"I took the liberty of breaking down -every- member and associate of this family's files and making copies for all of you." He stopped and finally looked up to take a breath and smiled at Frankie.

"Hi Frankie."

He looked back down and began passing out the folders to those present, and setting a set in front of each chair that had no one yet.

"Go ahead and start studying the folder before you. Start thinking about everyone and what uses they are to us here at the Tower... Welcome to the inner sanctum, la mia famiglia."

Sullivan made his way to the chair sitting at the right of Frankie and took his seat, leaning back and crossing his legs as they now awaited Allera and Matty to join them.

Matty was quick on Sully's heels. Her defiant waves unfurling in an unruly halo as they snuck free from her bun here and there. Her frock still smeared with god knows what from her days work at the clinic. Scurrying through the door before it had time to latch, she followed Sully quietly to the table, silent nods acknowledging her peers as she slipped the white coat from her shoulders; wiping her brow on the sleeve and smoothing down her frizzy locks before tossing it over the back of her chair. 

"Terribly sorry, my last appointment ran a little late. And then Sully insisted on files for everyone. It took... longer than I intended," she apologized to Frankie as she sank into the plush seat looking as if it was the first time off her feet all day; her eyes sparkling like shoreside sunlight glinting of sea-green waves as she smirked across the table at her counterpart, even despite her obvious fatigue. 

With a quick glance around the room, Matty took stock of the faces present... much like a mother goose counting her goslings, "I take it Allera is our last arrival?" 

Frankie nods to Matty as she arrives, "Yes.  She's getting settled into a new business so she may arrive a bit late.  She sent me a notice about it... I suppose it slipped my mind with all that's been going on."  She pushes a stray hair behind her ear.  "So, she may be a bit late today.  Just the same, I think we can safely begin."

She waits for everyone to be settled in and draws a deep breath.  "While we're waiting for Allera, I'd like to address the loss of Tony for a moment."  There was a weight in the room suddenly, she could feel the discomfort everyone felt with the topic but it really was the elephant in the room.  "I want to thank all of you for your support during my time of mourning and while the crew was short handed."

"It goes without saying that we are not the same unit we were a week ago when we received news of his untimely death, but I remain confident we can go forward from here and exceed our previous strength - rising above what we were to be more.  I dare say that perhaps Tony's passing allows for us to begin anew, as he is - or was, to the best of my knowledge, the last remaining member of the original Ivory Tower still alive.  May they all rest in peace."

Frankie sits a moment, silent, respectful of the dead.

"With that said, the position of my Left Hand Man has remained open an while Matty has been serving in the capacity, she has yet to be formally recognized.  That ends now."  She turns to Matty.  "In the past the Left Hand Man has overseen the street gang leaders and mentored them... I would be honored if you would accept the position of Left Hand Man for the Ivory Tower with all the rights, privilege and responsibilities that come with that title.  Do you accept?"

After Matty responds, Frankie will add, "For the time being Sully and I will personally handle matters of war when it becomes necessary, until such time as we have a new Hit Squad Leader.  SullivanBlack please put down that I'd like that matter handled by... shall we say a month from now?"

Sullivan leaned forward, starting to write, and then stopped and looked at Frankie...

"A month from now is good. I might have some ideas about that, I'll talk to you later about it though. Just a thought I had. You, Matty, and myself could talk that one out and see if we are in the same spot, and then invite the Capos in on the subject..."

He looked to the two men currently there as they waited on Allera to arrive. "No offense meant to you, gentlemen."

Sully looked at Frankie and Matty, and then to Allera.

"Well, first off, congratulations to the three of you. Welcome, as I said before. Welcome to the inner sanctum. You are the most senior and/or the most trusted within our family... Currently. You have shown through dedication and action that you possess the same values as Frankie and myself."

He looked at Matty.

"All four of you." Sully smirked and winked.

"So for the -first- manner of business..."

Sullivan opened his folder. "With Matty formally accepting the left hand position, that leaves the three of you to accept becoming our Capos, or street captains.  Inside the folder there are dossiers on every associate and family member, save the six of us, and the expectations upon acceptance of the position within the family."

He looked up at everyone, making eye contact one at a time between Francesco, Rac, and Allera. After a few moments he finally turned to Frankie.

"While I'm your hand, it's -your- place to bestow ranks on family. So I'll let the four of you discuss that now." He smiled at his cousin, hoping he hadn't overstepped bounds. Though he was fine with running shit, he didn't want to step on her toes. It was -her- family, after all. He was still only a Messina by extension; technically not even by those standards any longer.

Frankie nodded at Sullivan's words, "I really couldn't have said it better.  Each of you has been exceptional in your work for me - and I trust each of you implicitly.  I have great faith that you will be able to teach your skills in earnings, guns, and ... perhaps most importantly ... the ways we follow.  Honor, integrity, respect - even among the worst of us, these things must be observed or chaos will reign.  The young must be taught and I believe you are the right people to do that."

"The example you each set for those beneath you, and the way the world sees all of you and your gang members, that defines who The Ivory Tower really is.  The Tower is not what I or Sully say it is... it is who we are and the ideals we uphold not just in word, but by our deeds."  Frankie pushed aside the negative voice in her own mind, that critical thing that sometimes crept up when she thought that the ideals she aspired to were always higher than those she actually achieved.  She could not listen to that voice today, no matter how much it tried to distract her from her chosen course.

"Allera,"  Frankie looked to the first of her Street Gang Leaders, "I've assigned to you the following associates and guardians:  Bryne, Relwof, AutumnDesire, Lunacy, The_Classic, and MichaelScott."

"Francesco," She could hardly believe she was saying these words to a man she never thought to see in any role other than that of a Priest.  "I've assigned: MJ, Mincel, Deebeezie, Makavelii, Jeffrey, and Loosechange into your care."

"Raconteur," She turned to her final Street Gang Leader, "I've given the following associates and guardians into your care: Rat_Smiley, Gegnome, Andy_Campo, Tommy_Franco, Sottaceti, and Vesuvius."

She spoke to all of them, "I want you to take these individuals and make a force out of them.  Teach them, help them grow their skills and connections to others in this thing of ours - and that part is important too.  If we ever think we operate as an island... if we become detached from the greater body; it becomes far easier for our enemies to prey upon us.  I want this whole operation so tied up in the lives of those within this thing of ours that NO ONE wants to be the man who calls down the wrath of God upon us.  I want us to be valuable to everyone - too valuable to kill and that begins BUT DOES NOT END, in this room."

"Give your gang a name, an identity, help them to take pride in not only being Tower; but also let them know pride in serving YOU and perhaps one day you will lead more than just a gang - but your own crew.  NOTHING would give me more joy than authorizing someone seated at this table.  I've seen people leave us to take leadership positions in other crews, hands all... but to one day look at one of you as a peer - what thrill that would be!  God willing it will happen, but until then... this is where you earn your stripes."

Frankie looked through her paperwork, "Our numbers certainly took a hit after the war with Philly and Chicago... and then again when we lost Tony,"  She said, a hint of sadness in her tone, "But according to what Sully put together here... it seems that little rivalry of yours; Allera and Raconteur, helped put us back on track.  In fact, my bodyguard retinue should be filled up within the week and we can turn our focus to employing men to work for Sully and Matty's detail."

Looking up at the people at the table she added, "And then to all of you... I do think I'd like to add one more Street Gang Leader.  I think we have enough resources and manpower to support it - but I'm torn on who that person should be.  I see a lot of great talent in the people I've assigned to you, and true enough we have a few made men from which I could choose, but I'm not 100% sold on any single man or woman.  So, we're going to let you take these gangs out and see what you can get from them.  I'd like to see what unexpected cream rises to the top as my mother's father use to say."

Frankie leaned back in her chair.  "In fact, how would you guys feel about a little competition to kick things off?  Something done in the spirit of fun - something to show me the kinds of leaders you are and the sorts of people we have in this family of ours - what do you guys think?"

Francis zoned in and out of what was being said. Sometimes losing himself in the glass of water on the table in front of him. Like it was a bottomless dredge in the ocean, calling him to explore. But his mind was just void.

He heard what was being said. He was just, very relaxed.

After the main personalities at the table had their say, and the boss put her question out there, he raised his hand, still eyeing off the glass of water. The hand then turned into a 'thumbs up' gesture.

"Sounds good."

Raconteur shifted a little in his seat when Allera walked past and seemed to find a sudden intense fascination with the folders in front of him. If anyone in the room were to look closely at him, they might even get the impression that he was a bit shy or embarrassed. After a few moments looking at the files, though, his interest seemed to become more literal. He smiled as he listened to Frankie's announcement of the gangs and looked up to see how Francis had taken the news.

Raconteur's face screwed up in confusion watching the priest and he wondered, not for the first time today if there was something had happened to him before the meeting. He tried to shake the concern and turned back to the rest of the table, putting on a smile over his worry. "I think a competition would be a good way to get everyone's blood pumping and get used to working in the squads. It also gives the group of us here a chance to push each other even further." He mentally made a note to check on Francis before things kicked off. He wanted to beat him at whatever came next, but he wanted them both to come out ahead.

She's greeted right ahead with the biggest responsibility she can think of; she barely has enough time to steady her breath and pour herself a glass of wine before they start listing names officially under her care. As Frankie goes on, she takes a large sip and tries her best not to appear as though she's battling off the start of a panic attack once more.

Her eyes dart to her now fellow gang leaders, both so focused in their own little world, and it somehow makes it easier to handle the news. Deep down, she knows she's not alone in this task. "I would love an opportunity to prove my worth, milady. And to give these two a run for their money," she giggles a little. "What are the rules? And the prizes?"

Frankie looks at GangsterPriest and his still not improving condition with some small dissatisfaction before looking back to Allera.  "You know what... tomorrow, 10am.  I want you guys to meet me at Harrah's casino down on the strip.  The ballroom.  Bring your gangs.  I'll have the rules and details then - Sully, Matty and I will sort things out by then."

She stands up.  "I expect all my people there bright eyed and bushy tailed... so home, get some rest, and lay off the good stuff tonight gentlemen and ladies.  I need you in tip top shape when we go over things tomorrow.  Alright?"  She waited for everyone's reply and then let then dismissed the group to sober up and prepare for tomorrow's contest presentation.  There was, after all, no point in pushing Francesco through a meeting he was only somewhat aware of anyway.  He'd get past this indulging soon... surely.