“Then business, we shall do. Might need new name though, Americans are many things but dumb— er, no they are dumb but not dumb enough to trust group named ‘masters of evil’.”
A shrug, here’s hoping this doesn’t lead to him fighting more governments, he’s had plenty of that.
And that's all the Baron need for the moment. Someone who knows what role to fill and play it accordingly so. And he knows this one will follow that path.
〝 Of course. What you rightfully desire shall be yours under my leadership. Equivalent exchange. 〞
His time in America has been brief so far, but he’s heard a thing or two on what goes on in this town, ‘filled with nutjobs’, they say.
“Why am I here?” Probably a more important question, head foggy in between transformations.
Gotham, where was that… New Jersey?
Scratching at gray hair, not too far off from home but just enough to be inconvenient. Then again, he was there for a reason.
“Greenhouse?” That gets his curiosity piqued, that & her outfit, she definitely does not look like a gardener. +
earlier. ivy would never have believed it if she had not seen it with her own eyes.
❝ gotham city. my greenhouse. ❞
she replied simply, green eyes still fixed on the newcomer. she had not yet made the connection between sunrise and the man’s transformation before her.
Sorrow on the man’s face, he’s been where the other hound has been - long, long time ago. “Perhaps it is not that you don’t need it, but that you don’t want it,” a shrug — you can bring a dog to water but you can’t make him drink it.
“What do you want then?”
Eyebrow rises, he was not expecting the other to speak the same language he spoke, especially in a land that was not his own, a nation that was not his own.
“(How is this possible? Some sort of experiment?)”
Sniff, sniff, sniff.
He’s thinking the same words, albeit in his mother tongue. A curious, almost innocent tilt of head.
[“We are kin.”] he declares in his native tongue, pupils blown wide.
Head turns to look behind him, nostrils flare as the other’s scent fills his nose.
“I know that scent..” He says, realizing how familiar it really is - as it’s one he shares.
led by rat who cowers, rat who experimented on me, & many others decades ago, unleashed me upon innocent soldiers, my own country men. He must die.”
“Could ask you same thing. Groups of men all led by one big man on top, eh, American saying ‘top dog’, yes? Top dog.”
Eyes close for a moment, then he looks down, bad memories flood his mind - these men have what’s coming to them, he’s dead set on that.
“These.. ‘men’, all +
She doesn’t move — which is a good thing, for him. She isn’t a woman of much patience, but he has managed to make her pause. For now.
“You’re looking for these groups? Why?” Someone after the same people she is? Nothing new, but intriguing nonetheless. His accent —