Chapter Text
He is called various things by various people - 'Gray-Eye', 'Cross', 'The Old Man' – but no one knows his real name. Truth be told, hardly anyone has ever spoken to him – Matches Mallone did once a few years ago, and seeing them laughing as they shared a joke unnerved a number of the patrons of the Ace of Clubs.
He's one of those 'unnoticed regulars' – there so often that when he's not there most just assume that he was. His corner is an odd one as, for some reason, it's the nicest smelling area of the joint, even though, from the look of him, The Old Man hasn't showered in weeks.
The Ace o' Clubs, itself, has a mixed standing in the neighbourhood. Renown as the hangout for the various 'lowlife' of Metropolis, and the place to go to find that 'someone who will do the job you want doing', its rep suffered considerably when it was targeted by an Intergang 'clean-up' squad shortly after the place was bought by one Bibbo Bibbowski (a former contender for the boxing heavyweight title). Bibbo's affection and respect for Superman had made him a target, but this was quickly resolved when dozens of witnesses saw him punch Superman through a wall.
Shunned by those who are 'better', it is often 'infiltrated' by up-and-coming reporters, bloggers and wannabes, eager to make the most of the 'loose lips' a few drinks often encourages. The problem for the infiltrators, though, is that they're quickly sniffed out and ejected. There's only one reporter in recent years who has actually been welcomed, although there have been periods of tension: Clark Kent. After a number of his articles led to the revitalization of the area, and especially after he saved Larry's wife and daughter in a mob-hit gone wrong, most of the regulars welcome him readily but sometimes warily.
Old Gray-Eye, though, is an enigma for most. Known for his words of caution and his general wisdom, he's most famed for his ability to handle his drink. On a number of occasions, he's the one who has been called up to take on the challenges issued by visiting frat-boys and stag parties – his only 'condition' is that the challengers have enough money to cover a round for the whole bar if he wins and that that money be held by Bibbo. The tale of him out-drinking a twenty-member stag party, one by one, is legend.
He shuffles in at around six foot and is slightly stooped. His beard is thick but groomed – although one lady once claimed to have seen a ferret poking out of it – and his hair is shaggy and often clumped and tangled. His clothing is a mixture of military attire, and some folk are convinced he used to be a Green Beret or a SEAL as, on several occasions, he has cleared the room of 'aggravants' (as Bibbo calls them) without throwing a single punch or breaking any chairs.
He's called 'Gray-Eye' because his right eye is cloudy and 'blind'. He's called 'Cross' because his left eye has a nasty scar that looks like an 'x'.
The Ace o' Clubs is a loud place with loud voices, and underneath the din are the mutterings of plans, proposed escapades, and exchanges of information. Kidnappings, assassinations, leg-breakings and so on, are all discussed under the clamor of the latest ball games and heated arguments.
A few years ago there was a very nasty incident over in Park Ridge: a 16-year-old pizza delivery boy had been murdered; his headless body, dumped in the river, was found by Superman by accident when some out of control robot knocked him there from Hobb's Bay. The missing person's report had only just been filed and Superman asked the police to hold off on informing the boy's parents until he was able to find the head.
Later it was discovered that the boy had gone to the wrong address, the apartment block he was supposed to go to was opposite the one he did go to. Inside the 'wrong' apartment block, Superman found 23 bodies, crudely 'preserved', in their apartments.
In the Ace o' Clubs that same day, and before news of the murder was released, a middle-aged man was drunk and muttering about 'the stupid kid' and how 'he shoulda known better'. As rough as the clientele of the Ace o' Clubs is there are some basic rules they abide by: women are to be respected, kids are to be treated well, and the elderly should never be considered a nuisance.
When the Old Man arrived the regulars could tell straight away that he was angry. He didn't shuffle in and was taller and bigger than usual. The scars on his left eye looked raw. To top it off, the Old Man didn't sit in his regular spot. He sat down right opposite the middle-aged man…and stared at him. For a while, the man kept himself from meeting the Old Man's eyes, but he broke down and looked. Old Gray-Eye said one word: 'Talk'.
The tale the patrons heard bristled them. Two of them had to throw up. As he made the admission to the murder of the delivery-boy, the man downed his drink, stood up, chuckled, shook his head and made to leave. Old Gray-Eye said another word:
'Where?'
Bibbo blocked the man's path, his fists clenched and his arms folded. His mouth twitched with rage, but it was nothing like the look of rage on old Gray-Eye's face. Most of those there couldn't look at him for fear that they, too, would reveal their darkest secrets and they would have that look directed at them.
The man turned to look at Gray-Eye and blanched – he later said that 'the old man's eyes were on fire' and 'he was looking at my soul and burning it'. 'Dumpster off Glenmorgan Square', he mumbled, falling to his knees.
Old Gray-Eye got up and walked out as Bibbo punched the man.
No one saw Old Gray-Eye solemnly rise into the air.