reflectedlight | 🌙 Inbox - Marc Spector's Dead Drop

Marc leans into the panel, puts in Lagos, in the 2020s, nice weather. Gorgeous place. And nice place to freerun, generally, which is what Marc likes to do when his brain is loud.

"With you, just not on you," Marc repeats. Okay. So there's some kind of ... thing he can call for help, and that's part of it.

They step out and onto a tin rooftop into a vibrant urban center dotted with lagoons under a vast, perfectly clear sky. It's weirdly quiet without the people and traffic but Marc relaxes a fraction anyway just from being un-trapped. He can't actually just hop a plane and get the fuck out of here, but he can pretend for a minute.

Never been here. Heard the nightlife's nuts, though, mostly because that was Duchamp's thing. God, Marc hasn't talked to that guy in years.

"Steven's asleep. He goes to sleep around 22:00, I run around for a few hours until I get worn out just so I don't go nuts, then we both sleep. I'm the one that knows we're both here, so I'm always in the body's eyes and ears. That's how I can jump in if shit hits the fan for him."

Marc gives one of those millimeter smirks. "With the body, just not on the body."

The place is.. nice. He hasn't seen something like it before, decides he never will just as quickly as the awe hit him. His focus doesn't stray from Marc for more than two seconds, he knows better than to get distracted.

"So if I need you—Steven needs you—but you don't know it, see it, something. What do I do to get you..." Vague gestures outward. "Awake? Swap... in." Out? He's trying. Help. "If he can't know about you then how is that gonna work?"

"Without letting Steven know."

Marc grimaces. Hm. Good question, also hard.

"I call it being in the body, I've seen other people who are like me call it being up front. Fronting. Before ... about this year, I could pull Steven out of the body any time I needed to. He'd just faint. I don't know what it looked like from the outside."

Marc ambles off down a gable to hop to the next roof.

"I can't do it any more. Pull him out of the body when he's awake, I mean. If I knew what the hell changed, I'd tell you. No kidding, try knocking him out if it's an emergency and you need me right on the spot. Try not to concuss the body, but - emergencies are emergencies.

If you don't need me right then, I got a dead drop above in a ceiling panel. You ever used a dead drop?"

Knock him out without a concussion sounds easy but it means also calculating how the body hits the ground. If.. it hits the ground. Is it immediate? He drags a hand down his face. How the fuck is this guy supposed to do this conversation with every damned temp he gets?

He ambles after him, hands still in his pockets. He tries not to wear the same grimace and he tries not to show any of his reservations. Steven is going to hate him by the sounds of it. Oh, the things you do. He said Marc leads, he meant it. One more person hating him isn't so bad. "Yeah, I'm familiar. You check it regularly?"

"Every night. Look, it's fine. I've been doing this for decades, it's a pain in the ass but it's what I do."

He hops to the next roof, clambers on small handholds up the difference in height.

"Can I ask my other question about your thing? And don't be a smartass and say that counts as my question, you know what I mean."

"Oh no... you're onto me." He feigns. If he doesn't make a joke he'll go insane by this point. He makes the same hop, cheating with his Talent to get up with some stability. He doesn't think about it. It just happens.

"I reserve the right to pass, just saying. But go on, what is it?"

"What's gonna happen if you come clean? Worst case scenario, what are we talking?"

Now, that's a thought. What could happen if he was just.. honest about it all?

"Oh, you know, just.. worlds ending. Mine and whatever wrong ear hears about it." Is he exaggerating? It's hard to tell.

"You know," a hand leaves his pocket to gesture along as he speaks. "Back home there are legends about it. What I am, what I can do. I flaunt it to the right audience as a spectacle, use it to terrify and torment others. Most kingdoms know of me, even if they don't know my face. Fear, reverence, awe. Jealousy. Envy. But here?" You'd think he'd gesture with a hand but he taps his foot instead, it clangs on the tin.

"Here, there's too many variables. Powers I've never seen from people, Talent I can't explain or grasp. If! If they're even people at all. Back home, I'm safe. I can do what I want and I know my limits. I know all the possible threats, I can steer clear, be one step ahead. But I can't trust what I don't know and what I can't understand and that's this entire fucking place."

A 'go ahead' gesture, but it's just directed toward Marc. "No offense. It's not you exactly. You need to keep Steven safe, I need to keep this safe. I've seen what happens when these things fall into the wrong hands. Saved a world once, it gets old after the first time." And he just looks tired even by saying it and he regrets that much immediately. Everyone lost something with Black Barrow, some sanity, some hair, some their lives. Kylar doesn't know the extent of what's wrong with him but he can feel himself withering somehow despite it. His jaw sets a bit but there's an easier smile.

"If you actually get stuck with me, I'll consider talking about it. Deal?" He'll offer a hand to shake on it. Consider not.. guaranteed but maybe it's something.

What.

Marc shakes his hand, but looks baffled.

"I mean, look. You got your right to privacy, and if it's not going to hurt me or Steven, that's all I really need, the rest is yours to... do what you want with. Tell me or don't, it's fine. And it sounds like you got it handled just not talking about it, unlike my shitshow.

You're famous at home?"

Handled, yeah. Sure. You can call it that. Except John could see right through him. Even talk to it without Kylar having any hope of blocking him or preventing it. It was like he was transparent. It's unnerving and he can't decide if John's an enemy with a kind smile or not.

Famous though? Did he say that? "What? You think someone like me is born with a title like Baron?" He thought this was fairly obvious, but maybe not. Or maybe Marc thought he was lying about the Baron and 'my Lord' comment. "Honestly, I'm more surprised you aren't famous, Moon Knight. Hard to get a title and not have some stories attached to it."

"Mighta been a thing where you kill a Baron and you get their stuff, how should I know? Mighta been a - a present, for saving some princess from bandits. I didn't think you were an Avenger or something."

Marc doesn't know how Barony works, maybe it's like Mega Man.

"Oh, that. There've been a bunch of Moon Knights. Khonshu just gives whoever's working for him the title. People don't like, recognize me, though. Which is good, because the avatar of Vengeance thing comes with basically no perks beyond combat stuff, and I can still get arrested."

"Uhh.. High King, actually." Not that it matters, he doesn't get the kids back that title won't be lasting much longer. Not that that is any kind of priority. He hasn't done a damned Baron like thing since he actually earned the title.

He'll fold his arms. "You don't say, doesn't sound so different. Minus your... weird debt to the guy. Don't suppose you could keep the combat stuff but get rid of the asshole holding that debt over your head, huh?"

He tilts his head, just curious.

"Wait. You've been arrested? As in.. prison?"

"I mean, they don't recognize Moon Knight, either. I don't save the world, I just go after small targets that Khonshu picks out."

Seriously, he's not killing like, dark lords or Thanos or anything, mostly just random assholes.

"Doubt it, the perks are from summoning his stupid ceremonial armor. I'd give it up if he'd leave me alone- and, no, not yet, but that's not because the international police aren't trying. Mercenary work isn't legal."

"And in exchange Khonshu let's you.. what? Live? Don't think you ever explained that part."

International... police? Police? Is that like a guard? Army? Nobility? He's never heard the term beyond a verb.

"I wasn't saying it was legal. Obviously not. More just wondering if you've ever been caught."

There's a hum of a thought, but for now he keeps it to himself. Timing is wrong.

"No, I haven't been caught. I'm not important enough, and I'm smart.

Khonshu is... Khonshu's difficult. He brought me back from the dead, yeah, but if I don't agree to keep working for him, he's wants my wife for the next Moon Knight. He thinks this is really funny and keeps reminding me about it. Like an asshole.

I can handle this kind of work, it's not fun but it's ... fine. I don't want her to have to do it."

Edited 2026-03-18 07:41 (UTC)

He's not important enough or the ones he's killing aren't? Kylar keeps that debate to himself.

"Lemme guess. You haven't told your wife about any of it."

"... She knows I'm Khonshu's avatar. She's alongside me on missions, usually, she's a better planner. Better at lying, better connections in the underworld, that kind of stuff.

Doesn't know he's threatening her, no."

Also, they're divorcing, but that's not something Marc wants to get into, purely for Marc is very sad and very tired and doesn't want to think about that reasons.

Edited 2026-03-18 08:13 (UTC)

"She has better connections to the underworld than you do? Really?"

Color him surprised. From his own experiences, he would've never guessed.

"I guess that explains why your god's making that threat in the first place." It sounds entirely plausible.

"Oh, yeah. I was in the army, and I'm ... American, which doesn't mean much to you. She's been working in the Middle East and North Africa for like a decade as, uh ...

I don't know a nice way to say antiquities thief.

Just... different culture, she grew up in it, she knows it better, her family's established. And I don't do stealth much. She does."

Shrug.

Edited 2026-03-18 08:29 (UTC)

"So you're the murderer and she's the thief. Interesting duo you make."

Sounds lucrative, really. Wetwork and thievery don't tend to cooperate, the two professions don't even acknowledge the other and wetwork always considers themselves the best of the best in the Shinga and all its underworld webbing. Kylar doesn't know the last time he bumped into a real thief that wasn't a double crossing noble or a guild rat.

He thinks for a minute, almost a hum within the thought.

"Think you'll stay once you graduate? Aim for a deal? Could protect her. Could protect Steven and you. Keep Khonshit off of all of you, might salvage the abilities, if you even wanted to keep them. Admiral can do a lot more than find two kids for someone."

"Well. I mean, she's got a whole - I'm not going to be able to explain it, she steals mostly from Western collectors, there's this whole political, colonial-"

Too complicated. He waves. "... never mind.

And - none of that's why I love her.

"I don't know. I kinda left right in the middle of, uh - ... I said I don't save the world, but this guy Khonshu has me after is sure trying to end it."

Edited 2026-03-18 08:52 (UTC)

Western... yeah, he doesn't get it. He lacks the context. She steals from other thieves? That's his best guess as to what Marc is trying to explain with all the contextual gaps.

"And whatever it is you're supposed to be going after, that's the thing that did you in? Or was it some kind of freak accident that caused you to wind up here?" He's been in freak accidents, they aren't fun.

"Yeah. Cult guy, got shot and fell out a window. Bad luck."

"Got shot with an arrow to the back once while impersonating someone else." It's supposed to make you feel better, Marc. "Worst part, if I hadn't been using an illusion to make myself taller, the shot wouldn't have been fatal. Oh. And I knew the guy who did it. He had the fucking balls to apologize as I was losing consciousness." Scarred Wrabble was one of the good ones. If wetboys could have friends, he'd probably be the closest to a 'friend' Durzo dared admit to. Maybe co-conspirators was a better way to put it. Yet he still went for Durzo's head. Just part of the business, alas.

An open hand shrug. "Bad luck."

"You can get the other guy as many times as you want, the other guy only has to get you once."

Marc makes a cut-throat gesture. Game over. Sucks.

"Shitty line of work."

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