When Men Were Men

[proto_humanist]

Vandal Savage has come to Arizona, today. The last time he'd been in Arizona had been before the Spanish-American War, but some very interesting rumors had recently caught his eye, prompting a return visit. He needs reliable people for his new project, and the search for one such person has brought him here - to a little dive bar called 'Eddie's'

Comments

[old_evil_eye]

One only need look for the nearest dark corner.

Sure, its a cliche, but with good reason. After all, he's here not just for familiarity, but because people don't ask questions, including about the man with his hat tipped low and collar up.

Still, when he catches the sound of his name, in that tone, there's no mistaking the eye peering from the shadow.

"You got good ears, hearing news like that."

[proto_humanist]

Vandal smiles, moving towards the table in the darkened corner.

"You're a distinctive sort of person. News gets around today even faster than it did back in the old days. What was I calling myself the last time we met? David Van Savage, wasn't it?"

He hasn't taken a seat, yet - lost in memory for a moment.

[old_evil_eye]

"Sounds right. But you weren't the social type then, guessing that ain't changed. Got something on yer mind?"

[proto_humanist]

He nods, gesturing to the seat opposite Hex.

"I do. Can I join you, to discuss some business?"