Lucky_Junior walks up to a crowd of mobsters on the corner. The sun is shining, and Lucky feels the urge to discuss his allegiances. He lights a cigar and steps up to speak.

"Some, but not many of you, knew my father, Saint_Lucky. The man was truly a saint. He was originally recruited into this thing of ours when I was still young. He learned the ropes in LA under Johnny_Kraven, and, after his death, Gaius, both under Godfather Premier. He was killed just before Gaius and Premier, and left me in a very chaotic world. I didn't know who to turn to, as I had always assumed I would follow in his footsteps, perhaps doing some small-time work for the gang. I always thought I had an in. I first went to Gaius, but after he died, I couldn't find anyone who would take me in. I roamed the country for hours, trying to find someone, but afraid of going to New York, or any of the other cities that my father had been at war with.

"After hours of searching, I finally saw a friendly face. The very man that had first recruited my father was also still alive, and in a crew in NY. After a brief moment of debating over where my loyalties lay, I decided that I had to move on. I needed a crew, and they were kind a helpful. I have sometimes worried that I may be viewed as a traitor, or worse, but I have come to the conclusion that sometimes we must simply accept defeat.

Lucky steps back and continues puffing on his cigar while waiting for a reaction.

Defeat?  No no.  To expand your horizons is growth, not defeat.Your fathers battles were his own and he fought them for his own reasons. 

The son of a carpenter grows to be a carpenter, the son of a shipwright grows to be a shipwright.  Why?  Laziness.  It takes effort and constitution to blaze your own trails and I commend you for doing so.

Lucky watches as Vito says this, and takes a moment to think, while puffing.

"Excellent point, I shall consider that. Thank you very much, sir."

May your witts be swift and may your legs be steady. In the end you'll find your way.

Wraith bowed his head.

I can understand only too well what you did my friend. When my father died fighting for Los Angeles, I sought refuge under my foster uncle Recro. That is because with the death of the leaders of LA, what my father fought for crumbled. His family was lost too. As it was, I decided to craft my own path, and I am happy to be serving under someone who my father was so friendly with.

Accept defeat? Never my friend, when you lose a war, you leave your sons as many memoirs as possible so they can LEARN from the mistakes they made in that war. So that the next time, it doesn't happen again.

You are not a traitor for going into New York, of that I assure you. New York is a fine city that happened to disagree with the decisions that Premmy made. Relax, and rest assured that in the old Guards eyes, you are not a traitor.

Sleep well my friend, and walk with God.

Incase you hadn't noticed, there is no one left to view you as a "traitor". Every single son, daughter and complete-non-relation (as some are) of that city is now elsewhere. Your father may have served there, but LA was not an option for you if you wanted to survive beyond 2 days. There is no dilemma here. Anything you owe, you owe it to New York.