reflectedlight | 🌙 Inbox - Marc Spector's Dead Drop

"Okay."

Then lay em. It's your secret or his, and they're playing chicken - even if Kylar doesn't know it.

"Am I allowed to make rules?"

Edited 2026-03-17 07:35 (UTC)

"Sure, for every one you make, I get one. And vice versa, of course. Agreed?"

He gives another, larger gesture which means: 'get in the enclosure so it can be sort of private already, geez'.

Marc shrugs, walks inside.

"Yeah."

Finally. He'll step in after Marc and lock, unlock and lock the door in quick succession. At least if a warden comes to the door, they'll have to unlock it themselves and that should get them some time to shift topics if it's necessary.

He folds his arms, facing Marc. "I'm assuming you have a rule already in mind."

"You can come find me, with that thing, from 22:00 to 3:00. The rest of the time, I need my space."

He says it challengingly; like he's expecting to call Kylar's bluff immediately.

Edited 2026-03-17 08:18 (UTC)

He does not mention Verso put a literal restraining order on him after he stalked the man for 3 days straight post-revival. This is fine. He can do this. He doesn't have to control everything.

"On days you go to work, agreed. Two free days a week, your choice of when and I'll ignore you entirely on those days. Change them each week, if you want." Challenge for a challenge? "If you miss work, I want the right to check in. Can you handle that?"

"No."

Can't. Genuinely can't, people already check in on Steven too much.

Marc can already tell this conversation's going to be ugly. You know what he's ruined to keep this a secret? That aforementioned stable marriage. He'll do whatever he has to.

"Mine's withdrawn. What's next?"

Wait. Seriously? He didn't think it was that big of a challenge. "Can I ask why you don't agree?" Can he find a workaround for the boundary..?

"You ever see me during the day?"

He thinks about it. 'Day' is a weird concept here. But he's also a bit on the nocturnal side. "No." He'd like to ask why but he debates if that's wise to do right now.

"And working at night is out of the question for you, too, Moon Knight?"

Maybe that's too far, but he's not going to deny being a bit annoyed. He doesn't get it and that's what's frustrating him.

"Look, I'm saying you should work so you get that routine back. You got a better idea? Offer that. But there has to be something given from what's taken."

"I didn't pick the name."

He doesn't really like it, is the implication of this tone.

Okay, fuck. The kid is now curious, and Marc has no lie backup planned.

"Somebody else is - "

Actually, trying to say it out loud makes him feel nauseous.

"Look, you don't want to talk about the hand thing, right? You just don't. There's a thing I don't want to talk about just as much, probably more."

The hand thing..? OH. That's not... Kylar doesn't dare correct him. "So what you don't want to talk about has to do with somebody else, avoiding the threat of working consistently, if at all, or dealing with anything during the day, and only being willing to meet or let me look for you at night. Am I getting that right?"

To be honest, that gives him more information than he probably meant to offer so Kylar holds up both hands, conceding. Kylar can smell an uncomfortable secret well enough. "Meet me once a week at night. I pick the topic and I'll give you your daylight privacy, can you agree to that or are you going to twist my good arm again?"

Yeah, Marc does not trust that this is not going to get looked into.

"Listen. Kid.

This is not me twisting your arm as your fuckin' temporary inmate, this is me offering you one for free as somebody that I get along with, alright?

I like you, but I'm protecting something that I don't have any right to -"

Marc swallows hard.

"- do any more damage to than I already have. Not for you, or me, or my graduation, or anything. There's someone else here from my world, and he cannot know that I am here, or it will break him. I don't post, I don't go out while he's awake, I don't...

He's an innocent guy. I'm the bad guy here, I get the burden of figuring it out. I can tell you what's going on, but you need to know that's what I'm up against. I am responsible for this guy and I am really, really trying not to fuck him up as bad as the people who were supposed to keep me or you safe fucked us up. Okay?"

"Okay, okay." His hands are still up as he says it before he shoves them back into his pockets. He wants to ask if it's a lover or something, it's the best he can figure out in his head. But then he also wants to remind that protecting someone else is impossible. Marc should know this. But Kylar can see his gripping this idea of protection so tight that it won't matter. That topic is done.

"Then here's my free rule, you can't call me 'kid'. It's Kylar. I'm younger, sure. But in the grand scheme of things, I'm not that much younger. Just be glad I'm not asking you to call me 'Baron Stern' or 'my Lord'."

"Yeah. Sorry, I'd hate it too, honestly."

Being called kid.

But damn dude Marc is always constantly aware that Kylar still has time to do something else. Be somebody else, before the weight of it all sinks in like it did for Marc.

He's not getting weird about it. Promise.

"Okay, well, Baron Stern-"

ayyy got em. In this specific accent, calling someone a fancy title sounds suspiciously like calling them a huge nerd.

Edited 2026-03-17 19:36 (UTC)

He grimaces, and pulls in a rough breath.

"I share -"

Ugh. Ugh. This gets easier every time, and the fact that he's about to lie about the worst of it helps, but it still sucks.

Confess now and control the information, or hide it and he'll just find Steven with the item. Okay. Easy. Protect Steven, always, even if it feels awful. What Marc feels is not fucking important.

"I share the body I'm in with a Warden, and I'm mostly here to make sure he gets through this. That's what I'm for."

He folds his arms again. Okay. Not a lover. That's.. a weird concept. First he's heard of. He knows prophets, he knows of possessions, he knows of a legend; Ezra the Mad who became part of the creature he hunted. But he's also met the ... sane part of Ezra. If that's who or what it was who was guarding gates Kylar will never see again.

He has questions. It's not time for them yet.

"So he's your daywalker." He's making sure he understands. "And your his.. personal bodyguard. Am I getting that right?" Sounds like magic. He hates that.

We are so going to lean into it being magic.

"Yeah. He's his own ...thing. He doesn't know I'm here, and I want to keep it that way."

Tired shrug.

"I can't control what I am, but I've had years to go through the denial, the anger, all that crap. He hasn't. He's a ...civilian, he's sheltered. I just want a few hours after he goes to sleep, the rest he gets to run around, and that's good for me right now.

Can't pull all-nighters, though. The body's gotta get sleep some time. Sorry."

He's still not sure what to make of this. The dancer makes more sense. Protect the other when you can't be... around. How does that work? Never mind. It's not his business.

"All right, so check in with me on nights when you can get enough sleep. Just tell me when. Once a week, less if the barge loses its shit. If you don't like it, give me a counteroffer. I can't do nothing."

"No, that works. I can meet with you whenever he's out. And I'm not asking you to buzz off, just telling you what I'm up against.

I want to graduate. It's gonna be hard, but I do want to. Have to. He's a Warden, but we are actually, uh, really dead.

Do you want to come spar in here or something a couple times a week? That's like a routine."

He mulls that over a moment. He's not supposed to spar for fun. But that was years ago and that was with goody nobles who don't learn real fighting. And.. it's routine. More or less.

"Yeah, sure. We can do that even after, you know. Once the temp's done."

Which reminds him, he breathes through his nose, face frowning inward.

"You gonna explain this to every temp you get? What's the plan?"

"I'll be honest, when the Admiral asked me I didn't know temps were a thing and I kinda fucked up."

Hmhmnn.

There's a distance here that Marc actively hates. Whatever was comfortable has fled the room.

"You do still know me, y'know. What I like, what I do, what my job is - that was all true. It used to be mostly me, back then. Now it's mostly him, and I guess I owe him that much, 'cause I had my own stuff going on for ages and he had nothin'."

He rubs at his temples, he's thinking and that's hard. Give him something to stab and his brain knows precisely the angle and strength needed to kill or let live, he can think it through in less than an instant. But this? Ugh. This is why Momma K gave him a partner, he knows. Even if his partner was barely any better at the information side than he was.

"I don't care if you lied to me, for the record. Or if you're lying now, for that matter. I'm not going to take offense." He could. "I get why lies are needed. Protection, right? But—" He sighs, opens his hands figuring out the best approach but they all suck.

"You gotta understand that I'm not your enemy. I'm not asking you to trust me. Don't. That's the worst mistake you could make. But I can at least respect secrets." All to say, don't fuck him over with this. He's already had to fight eight dumb wardens over Verso sleeping for three days and he's so done with the politics here.

"You wanna talk about him, tell me his name, let me help you keep him.. I don't know. Ignorant? Sure, I'll do it." He's done worse. "You don't wanna talk about it then don't. But I can't help you, either of you, unless you let me."

"Here," he says as he holds out his right hand and a black metal ball appears into the palm of his hand. It's an eye for an eye. "This is my warden item." The ball seems to form a nondescriptive face before winking at Marc then seeping back into Kylar's skin like it was never there to begin with. "Now we're even."

"I trust you to be who I'm pretty sure you are," Marc says. He almost sounds tired. "You could tell people, but you wouldn't do it lightly, or for fun, or just to show you've got power over somebody else. You'd hurt people, but - not because you're a sadist. And if I'm wrong about you ... that's on me, at this point.

You already know my ... I dunno, daywalker. Sure. He's Steven Grant. He talked to you after the thing with your last guy, because he's -" BIG SIGH. "got a big heart, and he's in a poetry book club with the French guy's kid sister.

We're ..." completely opposite people. "Different.

But I was backseating for that shit with the drunk guy, and I'm not going to put you through that shit again. Like I said, I think your deal's more important than me, I want you to get it. I'm a ... redeemable person, my life's just weird. And I don't wanna be your enemy."

Most of that subject falls out of his head when there's suddenly winking metal, though.

Marc's head doesn't go to separate being though which, for him is kind of ironic? He assumes it Kylar making shapes in whatever material his hand is made of like ... damn, what was that x-gene terrorist guy that was famous ten or so years ago, the one that could control metal. Magnet man?

"That's your, uh, Talent? The prosthetic that's not a prosthetic."

"Steven? Really?" Well, that explains the protection earnestness. Survival of the fittest would crush that man, this man? Kylar's pretty certain. He can pick up that much from a passing conversation. "Different, yeah. Point taken." Is that best he can offer for that.

He gives another shrug. "No, it's not my Talent. I'll give you two more questions about it if you want them. In exchange, can I ask two more on you and Steven?" Eye for an eye, balance continues. "If either asks a question we don't like, we pass. Should've picked a better question." He gestures between them for the 'we'.

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