(canon is Sin City/That Yellow Bastard)

[thelastday]

Couldn't just leave an old man alone, could you?

Comments

yesyesyesyes! (and if I've miscaught your meaning/if this is wonk, just let me know)

[thelastday]

[There's something familiar about this guy, though I can't put my finger on it. Something about the smirk playing across his lips, the casual slouch, the way he flaunts his style like a hurricane through hell. Where he came from, what he wants, I can't say. I'm on my guard.]

Some truths are truths the whole world 'round. [Look him over without making it obvious, give him a thorough run-down in every way you can. Something here doesn't sit right.] What do you know about it?

Not wonk at all! I figure Vic/Mr. Blonde here looking like Bob would be interesting for Hartigan.

[gonnabite]

I've seen it myself a couple of times. [Vic leans back against the wall. Casually drinking this fountain soda, don't mind him. He chuckles.] You see it in the movies a lot too.

And so it is, and so you win, heh.

[thelastday]

Have you?

[The guy's playing it inconspicuous. Or maybe it isn't playing. Maybe for this guy, it's a permanent state of being.]

I don't watch much television.

WE BOTH WIN

[gonnabite]

Don't even go to the movies?

[thelastday]

Don't have the time, don't have the interest. Don't care for the tacky floors, either.

[gonnabite]

You don't sound like you go to a lot of movie theaters then.

[He laughs.]

Vic Vega, by the way.

[thelastday]

[Very funny. Very astute. And there's that nagging familiarity, though the name isn't ringing any bell I can hear.]

John Hartigan. [No harm in giving a name, not now. Then something he does--maybe a shrug of the shoulders, a glint in the eyes--clicks it into place: this guy is the spitting image of Bob. The Bob of years past, before he showed his true colors but not before I knew there was something out of joint. For all his laughing, there had always been something unstable with Bob. Hell, there was something with pretty much every cop. I just happened to learn the hard way when Bob's turned rotten.] Huh.

[I'm wary. Real wary. Something inside tells me to get the hell outta there, but I can't turn back before I have a better sense of who this guy who could be Bob is. Better to understand the danger than let it creep up on you.]

Where you from, Mr. Vega?

[gonnabite]

Hey. [He holds up his Taco Bell soda in a half-salutation. Lucky for Hartigan, Vic never bothered to hide his nastier side. He was cheerfully and nonchalantly homicidal and he didn't give a shit. This was a man who just got released from prison, too. He didn't feel like being violent right now, but he could be dangerous when he wanted to be.]

What?

[He directs that at 'what' at Hartigan's 'huh', but the question temporarily distracts him.]

Chicago. I live in L.A. now. [He nods.] You?

[thelastday]

Basin City. Not a bad place to be if you can stomach the fallout of large-scale corruption. I can't say how it compares to L.A. or Chicago, though. Never been.

[gonnabite]

Basin City, huh. [SLURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP.] Never heard of it.

ps Hartigan kind of wants to jam that straw up Vic's nose yep.

[thelastday]

[It's like the guy's trying to get on my nerves. But maybe he just likes his soda, and maybe I'm being touchy. Not used to all these noises.]

Probably better for you that way. I'm sure L.A.'s got plenty to offer.

yes good vic is a shit anyway

[gonnabite]

What's Basin City got to offer?

XD

[thelastday]

A few thriving businesses, seedy restaurants, waterfront property. Tar pits. All the vice a man could ask for.

Beyond that, it depends on what you're looking for. You have any particular interests?

[gonnabite]

[SLURRRRRRPS one more time because actually his soda is pretty much gone dang

oh well he casually tosses it to his side and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket]

Seedy restaurants are more my thing, but tar pits sound pretty interesting.

[thelastday]

The highlight of every tourist's stay.

[What's this guy's game? I'm keeping alert, but I don't have the patience to play for long.]

We got a pretty decent ball team, too.

[gonnabite]

[Nothing, really. He's actually just chatting and being himself. A smile plays on his lips and he sputters out a laugh.]

Sounds like the seedy shit's a lot more interesting.

[thelastday]

Interesting's a word for it. Keeps the city occupied, anyway.

[Try something more direct. Might be more helpful.]

So what do you do with yourself, Vic? What's your line of work?

[gonnabite]

[Shrug.]

I'm a dockworker. [Not really.] You?

[thelastday]

[This guy's as much a dockworker as I am a nun, but I don't call him out on it. Didn't expect a straight answer, anyway.]

Retired. Got to be too old to be useful.

[gonnabite]

Yeah? In what, exactly? [He looks over Haritgan. From the way he dressed he looked like he used to be some kind of hard-boiled private eye.]

[thelastday]

[There's no sense in hiding it, though I'm on edge, ready for this guy to twitch, fire, anything. A lot of people--especially evasive people--don't like cops. Guy like this who calls himself a dockworker could be anything. Drug runner, hitman, or he could just be dicking with me.]

Police force.

Job like that burns you out.

[Not really. I'm old, sure, and maybe everything doesn't work the way it used to, but I'm nowhere near finished.]

[gonnabite]

No shit, you a cop? [Was a cop, whatever. Vic gave him a lopsided smile.] I bet. That's why I never wanted to be one.

[That and it sounded boring.]

[thelastday]

[I don't tell him he would've fit right it, though I have my suspicions.]

Can't imagine the docks're much better.

[gonnabite]

Not really. Liftin' fuckin' crates all day ain't excitin' but it pays.

[thelastday]

I guess it'd have to. And it must give you the satisfaction of an honest day's work.