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There was a large ruckus coming from the door that lead out on to the landing pad. The light of a new day beamed in like a beacon as two people burst through the door. Marc and John, basically holding on to each other as they limped their way in to the penthouse, not really doing a great job of keeping themselves quiet.
Marc almost threw John in to an empty chair and the man quickly sits up straight, grunting irritably at Marc. Both of them looked like they went through Hell. The riot gear that John wore was scuffed and marked where bullets had hit him, and one of his sleeves was torn. Marc himself was lucky enough that he was wearing advanced armour, but it had dents, burns, and gashes on it, the cape that normally draped to the floor now only reached to his mid-back, and it appeared he had discarded his helmet at some point. For the moment they didn't regard Seph or Jordan and weren't exactly intent on being quiet or keeping their voices down.
[+blue “You're sure we weren't followed?”] John asks, moving to make himself more comfortable in the seat. Something was wrong with his shoulder.
Marc scoffs at the remark. [b “In my stealth fighter?”]
[+blue “Shaped like a moon?”] And Marc rolls his eyes at that.
[b “I'm a good pilot, of course we weren't followed.”]
[+blue “What are you talking about? You're a terrible pilot!”] Marc had to give him that one. Normally he wasn't the one flying the Mooncopter. It was Frenchie, but because of what happened, obviously he wasn't around anymore. That brought on some more hurt, but he didn't have time to deal with it right now. For the moment, they needed to figure out this whole Jordan situation. He was an Inhuman and the Maggia wanted him despite the world going to Hell. Why would they want Jordan if there wasn't a way for them to profit from it? Obviously there was something deeper here than they knew, but again, that wasn't the most important. There were two things they needed.
[b “Anyways,”] Marc says, turning his attention to Seph and Jordan. [b “We were able to save the workers at the group home Jordan was staying at. The bad news is that the [i Maggia] knows we have Jordan and they've taken agents of SHIELD hostage. I'm going to go save them and get us some back up.”]
[+blue “The hell you are!”] John says and stands up, pushing Marc's shoulder. [+blue “You need back up [i now] and we're the only ones who can provide it! I was a soldier and you have an extremely powerful psychic sitting a few feet away from you. You think you're just going to go at this alone? That's fucking stupid.”]
[+purple “He's fuckin' right.”] Jordan injects.
[b “Watch your fucking language.”] Marc points at Jordan before going back to John. With each verbal blow they were getting closer and closer to each others faces and more heated. [b “I work best alone, and you were lucky I even showed up! You're in my house, you play by my rules; I brought you here to keep these two safe, not go on a crusade with me.”]
[+purple “Why don't we all go?”] Jordan asks, the room suddenly falling silent for a moment. The kid is quiet for a moment, thinking before speaking again. [+purple “I can come and stay in the moon-thing, and that way Seph can come and help. It wouldn't be very smart of you to leave someone as powerful as her behind.”]
[+blue “You don't bench your best player.”]
Marc jerks a thumb at himself. [b “[i I'm] the best player!”] He shouts, baring his teeth. [b “Why are all of your volunteering Seph anyways? She's not going to want to come to this. Its going to be a war!”]
[+blue “Then why don't we just ask her?”] John shouts back, and again, the room suddenly becomes silent again and everyone's eyes turn on Seph... What was it going to be? Saving SHIELD agents or staying back and protecting Jordan?
[Google-Font <link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Quicksand" rel="stylesheet">][Quicksand [size14 Shortly after Persephone said she could watch the boy, the masked man was off. Making his way into another room. Jordan seemed pretty content just sitting with Persephone, but she could tell he wasn't entirely entertained. [i [#C70039 I bet this is pretty boring, right?]] She scribbled on his chest. The boy seemed to try and deny this at first, almost like he was worried he'd make her feel bad for being worn out. [#C70039 [i You don't need to be scared of making me feel bad.]] she scribbled on him, again. The boy's face flushed [+purple "Is it that easy to tell?"] He asked, shifting his eyes to read her face. [#C70039 [i It is for me. But it's okay.]]
It wasn't long before the two had heard shouting from another room, along with the sound of something hitting against something else, twice. The second time there were some faint sounds of items falling onto the ground, before there were more noises from what Persephone would just have to understand were a private moment in a very [i scary] time for this Moon Knight, along with everyone else as well.
When he made his way back into the main room, Jordan had been huddled to Persephone. As soon as things took a hectic turn in the other room, it seemed like he just [i instinctively] curled into her. Like this wasn't an unfamiliar feeling to him? Fear. [b [i "Sorry about that. Just had an annoying conversation with myself. Nothing to worry about"]] the man said, before sitting down on the arm of a couch. They could see his face now, and while it might be a bit silly, Persephone felt a bit relieved to have a [i face] to associate to the voice of this man that saved her. While she knew he was [i definitely] real, it just made him feel real to her.
[i [b This is happening everywhere. No help is coming.]] Persephone initially had a feeling that this was a larger issue than just locally, but having that confirmed made her [i feel] her stomach knotting up. How could [i anyone] do this to someone? But not just [i someone], the majority of the world?
Jordan noticed that whatever the Moon Knight had said to her, he must have been [i intending] to hide from Jordan. When Jordan questioned though, the Moon Knight just brushed it off as revealing his identity to Persephone. Marc shot a glance to her, ensuring that she understood he was [i intentionally] not telling Jordan because he's young and it wouldn't be great to give him reason to panic.
[h3 [center ~]]
Persephone was left in charge of Jordan while Marc investigated the [i Magicals] that were after the boy. She felt a bit haunted to hear that there were people that would hunt down a young child, but when it came to the world she lived in, it wasn't unheard of for people to have motives that she just couldn't stomach. Throughout the night the two had watched some TV, and Persephone had made some food for the boy from some stuff in the fridge and the kitchen, making sure she [i didn't touch the prosciutto!]
As the evening passed, she found her strength coming back to her and she was able to communicate telepathically to Jordan, making things a bit easier for him. At first, she was mouthing words, because it was always something she emphasized doing, to avoid panicking people. But Jordan insisted that she didn't need to pretend she was talking.
[#C70039 [i "So who are these people that are after you?"]] [+purple "I don't really know them, I just know that they're bad people and I'm not safe."]
Persephone could tell that just mentioning these people made the boy tense up, so she didn't want to push the subject with him for the time being. As it got later, and later the 12 year old boy who tried his best to seem fine was falling asleep against Persephone. The tv was on, giving some background noise. Seph could feel him fighting sleep, as he kept trying to pick his head up from her side, before it slowly made it's way to rest on her again.
Eventually he fell asleep, and within the next hour or so, she did as well.]]
When Seph said she'd take care of the child, Marc nodded his head and quickly left the room. He went for one of the closed doors, opened it, walked in, and then locked it behind him. Like he had said to the psychic, there were things he needed to attend to, and he didn't want to be interfered with. There were people he needed to call, and bearings that needed to be got. He's seen some strange things in his time, Hell, he even had an enemy who could induce waking nightmares, but nothing was as crazy or as strange as what was happening now. And Marc was pretty sure [i he] was crazy. He needed to be grounded, and the one person who was capable of doing that turned to ash right in front of him earlier today.
Marc unlatches the cape from his shoulders and takes his Moon Knight helmet off, cradling it under his armpit as he reaches for the landline. The room he was in was an office, furnished how you would expect with a large oak desk, a bookshelf, a small lounging area with a coffee table, and a TV mounted on the wall. The phone he was reaching for was a secure line, and despite New York going to Hell, he still wanted to be sure his alter ego was kept secret. He dials a number and waits.
[i And waits. And waits. And waits.]
There was nothing, his old comrade Jean-Paul didn't pick up. Quickly he dials another number, the emergency beacon in Jean-Paul's watch. And he waits again, and there's nothing. The dial tone immediately struck Marc with anxiety and fear, and he turns on the TV, many of the channels just being static, but once he flips through, there were some emergency broadcasts, one of which was in New York. He skipped passed it, already knowing what happened, until he got to the EU. And he honestly wished he didn't. Whatever the Hell that had just happened here in New York had happened all around the world. A large mass of the population turning to dust and the people rioting in response.
The grip on his Moon Knight helmet tightens. [i Marlene.] His teeth grit together. [i Jean-Paul.] And with a shout, he throws his helmet at the TV, shattering the screen and breaking the device. His mind was aflame now with fury, loss, and fear. No wonder everyone on the streets lost their mind, it was a wonder Marc's fragile psyche lasted this long in the first place. He swipes a fist across his desk, knocking all of its contents off the surface before flipping it over. His fist crashes in to the wall, and when he cracks the concrete and probably some bones, he finally comes back to his senses, sliding done the wall and doing some breathing exercises to calm his pounding heart.
After a few minutes of sitting in his mess, Marc steps out of the room, his cape and mask still in the room, revealing his face to the two. He had dark brown eyes and hair to match, a strong jaw line adorned with stubble, and through his left eyebrow he had a small scar. If they kept up with the Wall Street Journal or other media outlets that talked about the rich and famous, they might recognize him as Steven Grant, the reclusive billionaire that came out of nowhere.
[b “Sorry about that.”] Marc says, waving the two off nonchalantly. [b “Just had an annoying conversation with myself. Nothing to worry about.”] He sits down on the arm of one of the couches. [i 'This is happening everywhere. No help is coming.'] Marc signs to Seph. She had a right to know but he didn't want Jordan to know and then they'd have to deal with a scared ten year old. However, Jordan seemed to be displeased with their secret conversation.
[+purple “What did you just tell her?”] He demands more than asks. Marc grimaces at him. [+purple “Come on! You can tell me too!”]
[b “I told her my name is Marc Spector.”] He lies, glancing quickly and Seph and then back to Jordan. [b “Sorry, I didn't think an eight year old could handle knowing my secret identity.”] And he seemed to take offence to that, which is sort of what Marc had intended. He wouldn't be pressed upon the actual contents of his message.
[+purple “I'm twelve! And I can handle anything.”]
[b “You think you can handle going home?”] Marc asks crossing his arms. The boy makes a face as if he had just eaten a lemon and Marc couldn't help the corner of his mouth curving up. It seems it takes the boy a moment or two to come up with a rebuttal.
[+purple “It won't be safe there. There are people looking for me.”] And that struck Marc as strange, he looks up to Seph again and then back down to Jordan.
[b “What kind of people?”]
[+purple “Bad people. The Magicals or whatever?”] And Marc's eyes go wide and on the coffee table between them, he grabs some sticky notes and a pen, flipping them in front of Jordan.
[b “Give me an address.”] And the urgency in his voice seemed to have made the kid understand something bad was happening. He wrote it down and Marc quickly swipes it from the table, getting up from where he was sitting and going back in to the room he had freaked out in earlier. He re-latches his cape and walks out holding the helmet again, going for the stairs towards the balcony to the helipad.
[b “Seph, you're obviously in charge. Make sure the kid doesn't get in to any trouble and help yourself to anything in the kitchen, but don't touch the Prosciutto! Lock the doors.”] He was out the door, but then leaned back in, and points directly at the two, most likely at Jordan. [b “And stay the Hell out of my room!”] And this time he was gone, the crescent shaped aircraft humming to life and shooting off of the building with haste.
What the Hell was he so worried about?
Fastening his helmet on and placing the hood over his head, Marc looked down at the note with the address. [b “Brooklyn.”] He says to himself, sitting back down in to the pilot's seat again, flipping some switches and some buttons. The Mooncopter speeds up and shoots through New York City like a bat out of Hell.
Jordan had called them 'the Magicals', but Marc knew what he meant. [i The Maggia.] They were the people [i the Mafia] paid protection money to. And just like the Mafia, they had a ruthless and bloodthirsty leader. As Moon Knight, he's never actually run in to the Maggia himself or their leader, but he's heard tales of them and seen their work. If they wanted Jordan, then they were in a lot more trouble than he originally believed.
Below there was still rioting going on, but it looked like it was slowing to a crawl. The initial shock had died down and the many law enforcement organizations seemed to have gotten themselves together to try and deal with this disaster. It didn't look like there was a huge mob like the one he had to deal with earlier when they were going to lynch Seph... But she had super powers, so it kind of made the situation a little more unique. It wasn't the first time he's encountered people with powers, but definitely the first time he's encountered one who kept themselves at civilian level. It just goes to show you how big the world actually is.
He flies over the East River and is in Brooklyn. Marc quickly steers to the address, and when he does, he looks in horror at what was happening below. It was an unassuming suburban community, and at the present moment it looked like a riot had rolled through it. Might've actually happened, but the bullet resistant black cars lining the streets with armed street toughs shooting in to one of the houses said other wise. There were a few police cruisers outside as well, but from up here... Were some of them [i with] the Maggia?!
[b “By Khonshu's grace.”] Marc said. He flips a few more switches and the 'copters onboard computer scans the area and its threats, detailing to him the firepower he was dealing with. It also told him the cars the Maggia arrived in were empty. He swoops the 'copter down, letting loose some of the FFAR missles, blowing up the mobster's cars. Their fire was then on the 'copter, and the fired at the crescent shaped craft, but the bullets glanced off or missed. Marc quickly swings it around, this time firing from the mounted chainguns. He didn't hit any of them, but they scattered to find suitable cover. Marc then banks back a final time, firing the cannons at the roof of the Brooklyn house, hitting the autopilot and jumps out of the opening hatch underneath the pilot's seat.
He falls for a bit before grabbing each end of his cape and pulls it open to begin gliding. He already had a lot of momentum, so when he came towards the part of the roof he opened fire on, he crashes right through it in to the top floor of the house itself. He's immediately met with four armed men in SHIELD gear—wait, SHIELD was involved?!—and they open fire. He quickly dives in to one of the room and plasters his back against the wall... Maybe he should've come up with a better strategy. He waits for the gun fire to stop, and once he hears them advancing, he spring from the doorway and back in to the hallways, hitting the first agent with a flying knee.
Moon Knight ducks under a punch, grabbing his truncheon from its ankle holster, and once he's up again, he presses a button and it extends in to the length of a staff. He clubs one of the agent's across the face and punches the other, quickly sweeping all four of them to the floor with both a leg and his staff. He was about to finish the job when,
[+blue “Enough!”] And Moon Knight looks up to see the cop from earlier, this time he was wearing riot gear and had an assault rife. The rifle was trained on him. He backs away from the SHIELD agents, holding the staff up and retracts it to its truncheon size. [+blue “You have a lot of nerve coming here, Moon Knight.”]
[b “The kid is safe. He was a stowaway in my fighter.”] He tells him. The men in the hallway began to get up, grumbling to themselves and the gunfire outside began to lessen. [b “Why is the Maggia after him?”]
And all of the officers look between each other, weighing if they could tell the Crescent Crusader this bit of heavy information. The one from earlier finally cracks. [+blue “He's an Inhuman.”]
[b “A what? Wait, nevermind, I'll figure it out later.”]
[+blue “Why are you here? Where are you keeping Jordan?”] And Moon Knight turns his head slightly. It sounded almost like an accusation.
[b “I'm keeping him [i safe], the opposite of here.”] He points out. [b “And I came here to try and stop this, but it looks like I was too late.”]
The man nods. [+blue “The SHIELD helicarrier went down in the Hudson, crashed in to Jersey. Without the threat of them I guess the Maggia decided it was time to collect.”]
[b “And these guys are just on reserve, I guess.”] He points out. [b “Either or, I need [i you] when this is done.”]
[+blue “Me? Why me?”]
[b “You're the only one in this entire situation that I trust, and if people are coming after Jordan we need all the help we can get.”] The house shakes with an explosion at the end of his statement, and quickly they all run to the upstairs bay window to look out on to the street.
[+blue “They have a rocket launcher!”]
[b “We can see that! Get in to your positions, I'll go meet them head on!”]
“That's suicide! They'll kill you.” One of the other agents says, and Moon Knight looks at him. He couldn't tell, but under the helmet Marc was grinning.
[b “I've done it before.”] And with that, he bursts out of the bay window, throwing several crescent darts towards exposed enemies.
[Google-Font <link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Quicksand" rel="stylesheet">][Quicksand [size14 As Persephone crumpled to the ground, she could hear the rioters closing in on her. The sound gradually getting quieter as her vision faded to black.
Persephone could hear gunfire fairly audibly, and shortly after she felt arms, snaking their way underneath her to lift her up, causing her to shift her face slightly. Her eyes very slowly opened [i just barely] before falling shut again. There were plenty of reasons that Persephone avoided using her telekinesis unless she really needed to, but the overexertion black-outs were definitely her [i main] reason. Persephone's telekinesis in general was slightly more [i wearing] on her energy levels than her telepathy. She was never quite sure if that might've just been because she was so [i in practice] with her telepathy, or if that was just the nature of using your mind to communicate to others [i in theirs] versus using your mind to control the physical world. It had always made sense to her that between telepathy and telekinesis, that telekinesis would draw more from her than telepathy, she just was never entirely sure if her understanding of [i why] was accurate.
She began to finally [i come-to] as she felt this man carrying her into his [i moon]-copter?! Holding her eyes open was still a struggle, but she was at least able to [i pay attention] to what was going on around her now. Whenever the rare occasion happened that Persephone used her telekinesis to a point of exhaustion, she would regain her control gradually. [i [b "You alright there, Seph?"]] She heard an unfamiliar voice, one she assumed had to belong to the man who picked her up and brought her into this moon-esque vessel. She sluggishly nodded, a gesture that unless you were [i looking at her] at the time her body [i did the action] wouldn't have been easily noticed. [b [i "I promise you'll be safe from harm where we're going."]] Despite seeing her world as she knew it turning upside down recently, watching people fade away to nothing, hearing someone [i sound] sure of themselves at least made her feel better. Even if she [i figured] that with some unknown cause of instantaneous death it would be hard for anyone to say that someone was truly [i safe].
[+purple "And where's that?"] [i Jordan.] Persephone thought to herself, a small smile stretching across her lips. She wasn't sure if this meant that the officer wasn't able to help them or if the officer was the man that [i saved her] but she was glad that Jordan was safe. Things were way too chaotic and unpredictable for a small child. The boy seemed to quickly have a lump of fear in his throat, asking the unknown man to put something away. This was concerning to Persephone, but hearing the defensive nature of the man lead Persephone to know [i for a fact] that this was someone that she hadn't seen yet. They seemed confused and caught off guard at the fact that the boy was with him.
[i [+purple "I-I feel s-s-safer with Seph."]] Safer with me? Over a police officer that could've found someone he [i knew?] While Persephone didn't entirely understand why he felt safer with her [i other] than the whole light pole thing, it was certainly heart-warming. By the time the three had landed, Persephone had been [i awake] but still pretty sluggish. The man helped her into the house, and helping her lower herself onto one of the couches. Jordan's eyes seemed to light up as he looked around, taking in the new environment. [+purple [i "You have fishy crackers?"]] She heard Jordan as he was rummaging around in another room.
[b "What? No. Get out of the pantry!"] The masked man said, before Jordan scurried his way back into the main room, goldfish crackers in hand. The masked man had been checking over Persephone, just making sure she was okay after the light pole and collapsing incident. She wasn't sure how much of that he saw, but he must've at least known something happened to cause the people to target her like they did. [b "Not much of a talker, are you?"] To which Persephone gestured to her throat, before signing [#C70039 [i I can't speak.]] She hadn't reached a point where her telepathy was an option. Being that she'd only regained basic movement not very long ago. She was aware that this might be confusing to the boy, who would've heard her communicating through telepathy, but being she couldn't actually use her telepathy at the moment, she needed to explain something.
The man who saved her obviously wasn't [i opposed] to her having abilities and the boy seemed to want to be with her after the light pole incident, so clearly the idea of telepathy wasn't going to be that far-fetched. [b "You have some pretty powerful psychic powers. Jordan was lucky you were around."] Persephone's lips curled upwards, making a small smile. It was nice to have someone react positively to her abilities. Since she was raised in fear of people reacting negatively, and being that she exposed herself during a moment where she surely took the blame for the strange events from panic stricken people, hearing something positive was reassuring that she made the right choice to protect the boy.
[b "Would you mind taking care of him for a moment? There's some things I need to take care of."] Persephone nodded, before slowly easing herself up off the couch, and making her way into the kitchen, looking for Jordan. When she found him, she made her way over, tapping on his shoulder. The boy spun around, wide-eyed before he saw that it was her. [+purple "Seph, are you okay?! That was so cool!"] The boy had started spouting off pretty quickly and Persephone didn't really have a way to communicate back to him, since she was still fairly drained.
She nodded her head, before she gestured for him to come with her so she could watch him, since standing and walking about was something she could do but was pretty tiresome. It would be better for her sake, to be able to stay relatively relaxed to allow herself to bounce back a little more quickly. Jordan seemed to follow behind quickly, she wondered if he'd been confused as to why she could talk to him before, but not now.
When the two made it back to the main room, and Persephone took a seat, Jordan seemed to be looking at her with a puzzled expression. Persephone tilted her head to the side in wonder, before Jordan said [+purple "Why aren't you talking?"] Persephone poked at his chest and spelt the letter [#C70039 [i I]], and waited until he had repeated it. She then followed suit with [#C70039 [i can not talk.]] She waited in-between each word, waiting for the boy to repeat it back, making sure that she wouldn't confuse him by drawing the letters on his chest too fast. [+purple "But why can't you talk? You were talking earlier."]
[#C70039 [i I know. I will explain in a little bit, okay? For right now can you just stay in here with me while the man is busy?]] Jordan nodded, curling up to Persephone, clutching the goldfish he stole from the pantry.]]
There was so much going on at once. People screaming, rioting, becoming violent. The sort of thing you get trained for, but the thing that no matter how you train for, you're never ready. Even with his military background John has never had something as chaotic as this, and in the middle of New York City. But that took a back seat for the moment as he grasped for the tangible: the lost child Jordan. His pillar of stability in this whole mess. There was nothing he could do for the whole city or for the many that had vanished in to nothing, but a child in danger was in his ballpark. The difference he could make for one person. The thing that [i had] to be enough.
However, it seemed the screaming reached its own sort of crescendo and John whipped around. The woman he was with let out a gasp and then a cry of panic like everyone else. And John would be a liar if he said that he didn't gasp in shock as well: it was a woman with a small boy, and in front of them was a lamp post floating horizontal to the ground, and it swept people out of the way. It was all John could do but to fumble with his gun again, but the woman and John made eye contact, and almost as if the woman was talking in his ear, he heard 'Help him' before she collapsed. It must've been his imagination, but he didn't give it much thought as he and the caretaker met Jordan halfway. The two were hysterical when they came in to each other's arms; fear and panic will do that to you, and once he quickly checked them over, his thoughts and eyes went back to the red headed woman.
She obviously wasn't normal, it was quite obvious she was a meta-human or mutant or whatever they were calling them these days, but she wasn't evil or the source of whatever it was that just happened... But it seemed like the people of New York didn't look at it that way. Something horrible just happened and they needed a witch to hang, and now there was one laying defenceless in the streets for all to see. When the shock of what happened wore off, they all came for her, John battling the crowd to make it for her first, but there was just too many for him.
His gun was knocked from his grip, and as he pushed he was pushed back, the safety and the authority getting lost in the mass of bodies that swelled towards the redhead helpless on the streets. He shouted and ordered, but it was snuffed out by the chaos. At that moment, all seemed lost, but,
[i A shadow blocked out the midday sun. A flash of silver in the cloudless sky.]
[+blue “What the hell...”] Before John had a chance to process it, something came from the shadow in the sky, descending to the ground like an avenging angel clad in silver, white, and grey. He landed where the woman lay, his white cape billowing around her like a protective tent, his glowing eyes levelling on the crowd with an icy fury. Now that John could see him, he knew who it was. Hovering above him and the woman impossibly was an aircraft in the shape of a crescent, and brandished on his chest was the same shape; his moniker, his calling card. [+blue “Moon Knight.”] John said to himself, and as he did, gunfire came from the aircraft's mounted cannons, punching a few baseball sized holes in to the pavement where there were no civilians. Warning shots, and it seemed everyone took the hint.
They funnelled around them like rocks in a stream and soon enough the part of the street they were on was empty, and it seemed like Moon Knight had other plans for the woman on the ground.
He began picking up the mutant now that the wild mob had moved on. The only people who stayed was the police officer, and the woman with the child. [+blue “Hold it right there, Moon Knight.”] The police officer said. Apparently he knew who he was, but that wasn't exactly news to him. Moon Knight has been a player on the scene for a little bit now, but mostly flew under the radar thanks to the more prolific and [i loud] heroes.
[b “Why?”] It was a simple enough question, but it seemed to stop the Uniform in his tracks. The man was grasping at straws, not used to [i not] having authority, but Marc already knew this was now a lawless place. Whatever the hell it was that just happened seemed to be over and people were looking for someone to blame, and it just happened to be the mutant woman at the moment. An easy enough patsy; people were afraid of what they didn't understand and she was unlucky enough to be at the wrong place at the right time.
The officer and the Lunar Legionnaire stared at each other for a tense few seconds, however the silence was broken by the child. He looked like he was barely scraping ten, wearing an oversized denim jacket and a Yankees base-ball cap that went down to his eyebrows, accentuating his big blue eyes.
[+purple “Mr. Moonbeam.”] The child squeaked, and he didn't even bother to correct the kid. He was partially behind the woman with him; she herself was slightly above average height and considering her appearance, there was no relation to the child. When Marc levelled Moon Knight's eyes on to the boy, he seemed to get braver, stepping out of the woman's shadow. [+purple “Where are you taking, Seph?”] Was that her name?
Good question. [b “Somewhere safe.”] He answered and the Mooncopter lowers to the ground, landing struts coming from the bottom, the turbines of the aircraft pushing away dust and litter. The air-stairs open and drop to street level for them and Moon Knight enters, the compartment quickly closing. He places Seph in the passenger seat before flicking a few switches and pressing a few buttons to take them in to the air. The VTOL moved swiftly and smoothly in to the sky leaving the others behind.
[b “You alright there, Seph?”] Marc asks, not really knowing if she was coming to just yet or not. He didn't have time to check her vitals either. With the world gone to Hell, he didn't have time to do [i a lot] of things. [b “I promise you'll be safe from harm where we're going.”]
[+purple “And wheres that?”] He nearly jumped out of his skin at that. Out of his seat, absolutely. Luckily he just put the auto pilot on or else they would've went spinning in to a skyscraper; Marc was already a terrible pilot. [+purple “P-please put those away.”] The boy says, eyes as wide as saucers, and Marc looks at his raised hand, three of his crescent darts were reflexively at the ready. Whoops.
[b “How the Hell did you get in here?”] Marc asks, putting the weapons back on his belt. He then shakes his head, omitting his own question. [b “Nevermind! [i Why] are you here?”] The boy seemed to shrink a little as Moon Knight stalked towards him, looming over the child. The 'Copter wasn't exactly the most spacious of things, but it could carry a few people. The boy must've been claustrophobic at this point with the costumed crusader in his face.
[+purple “I... uhhh...”] He sputters and Moon Knight leans in closer. The kid nearly falls over. [+purple “I-I feel s-s-safer with Seph.”]
Marc glares for a moment before standing up straight and moving to the pilot's seat again. There was nothing he could do at this point, not while in the 'Copter. Turning around would put all three of them in danger with the rioting. The best thing he could do was take Seph and the child to safety and figure out the rest from there. If the kid felt safer with her then who was he to argue? Plus, his conscience would feel a lot lighter knowing the boy was off the streets... They'd have to call the woman he was with or pick her up or something later.
Either way, the rest of the flight was quick, the trio arriving at the top of a skyscraper pretty well after Marc sat back in to the pilot's seat. He lands the VTOL on a small landing pad and quickly brings his two companions inside. It was a penthouse. An expensive one.
The farthest wall was all windows giving them the view of the city, and the apartment itself was decorated in a very minimalist type of fashion, mostly with white furniture and polished hardwood. There was a living room, a kitchen, a few other rooms around the area with closed doors, and an entrance to the balcony and landing pad outside. Off to the side there was a staircase that led to an upper level that dominated part of the ceiling but viewed the lower level.
[+purple “Wow! You live here?”] The boy, who Marc had now come to know as 'Jordan' asked in astonishment.
[b “Some times.”] He answers, helping Seph to one of the couches. He watched as Jordan took a peek around in childlike wonder as if people hadn't just turned to dust in front of them not too long ago. His chest went tight at the thought. [i Marlene...]
[+purple “You have fishy crackers?”] And Marc looked up from Seph, his mask concealing the confusion on his face.
[b “What? No. Get out of the pantry!”] And Jordan slides back in to view from the kitchen, and in his hand... [i What the Hell?] A bag of the goldfish crackers. Marc just shakes his head and turns his attention back to Seph, checking her finger nails, pulse, clamminess of her skin; pretty much all the things you check for signs of shock. Once he had determined she didn't need any immediate or emergency medical aid, he stands up out of her face. [b “Not much of a talker, are you?”] He asks rhetorically. [b “You have some pretty powerful psychic powers. Jordan was lucky you were around.”] He looks over his shoulder to see Jordan had vanished in to the kitchen again and Marc makes an impatient noise. [b “Would you mind taking care of him for a moment? There's some things I need to take of.”]
[Google-Font <link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Quicksand" rel="stylesheet">][Quicksand [size14 On most days, Persephone made it by as someone who could [i talk] by mouthing words in an effort to [i pretend] to speak, while communicating mentally to others. It avoided a lot of obstacles that would come with the other few options she had for communicating with others.
Without mouthing the words, people would realize that they didn't actually [i see] her speaking, which meant she was either an aspiring ventriloquist who spent her days confusing everyone, or that she was different, than others. Unfortunately, most people's descriptive term for this wasn't [i gifted] or [i unique], but rather that she was some sort of [i freak] for having a different way of effectively communicating with others. Sign language was an option, and she was comfortable with sign language, however most people who were not handicapped in the sense of speech, or hearing didn't know sign language. This meant that while some people would understand her, many others would not. And the final of her options that wouldn't work out well would be taking the time to write things down for those who could read it. But this method was far too time consuming for Persephone to find it as a viable option.
The young woman wasn't always incapable of talking, but for life as far as she remembered, that was the case. Her parents said that there was an accident when she was young. She had head the story plenty of times, it seemed like her parents had a harder time dealing with having a completely healthy daughter who one day was doomed to never speak again. It wasn't until Persephone learned of her telepathic abilities that her parents were able to hear her voice anymore, and from that point forward they just opted to not talk about their daughter being mute to others, to avoid trying to explain to them that their daughter was extraordinary, and for them to react in a way that wasn't [i harmful] or potentially harmful to their daughter's confidence or in her decision to use this ability to aid in her day-to-day life.
In the present moment, however, Persephone had been out browsing some of the local storefront's in search of a gift for her mother for her upcoming birthday. So far her day had been relatively calm. But in the blink of an eye, it seemed that some chaos began to form due to an inexplicably tragic event which seemed to be taking over and consuming many people throughout the area, when in reality this event was affecting the world.
Persephone watched as a few people in the store had become essentially petrified, before their bodies began to lose all essence of color and life, crumbling away as ashes in a breeze. While this as a whole didn't make sense to her, her eyes were quick to find a young boy who seemed to stare in horror as a woman he was facing did the same, fading away into nothing. [i How the hell is this even possible?] Was the first thought as she had been watching in horror, but as soon as her eyes locked on him, she knew that this wasn't the time for her to think on the events happening.
Panic struck the store, as people tried to run away from an invisible evil. There was nothing to face, nothing specifically for them to fear or escape from, and so with everyone scrambling in different directions it very quickly turned into fights. shelves being tipped over in bystander's attempts to [i escape the invisible death.] She quickly crossed the distance between her and the boy, reaching her hand out to him and trying to give a reassuring smile, despite the concern and tinge of fear in her eyes. In a situation as pressing as this, Persephone normally might forget to mouth her words, mimicking speech, but in order to prevent him from becoming more fearsome than he must have already been, Persephone needed to make sure she focused on mouthing words while projecting. [#C70039 "Hey, I know this is really freaky, and I know I'm a stranger. But trust me, we need to get away from here before this gets more out of hand. Come with me, okay?"] He looked up at Persephone and nodded, before taking her hand, despite the fear that still lingered along his face. She could understand where that fear was well grounded, she wasn't even sure how through this she managed to compose herself and avoid being paralyzed or fleeing in fear, but seeing a child watch as the adults around them just [i vanished to nothing], someone had to help. What she didn't understand was that his fear was much more similar to her fear of forgetting to mouth her words.
He knew that people [i in general] aren't very accepting of [i gifted] people, and in a situation like this? Not a chance. [#C70039 "I'm Persephone. Just call me Seph, okay? What's your name? In case we get separated."] [b "Jordan."] [#C70039 "Just stay close to me, we're going to try and make it to the door and get some help."]
As the two tried to manage their way to the front door without getting trampled, a trash can came flying through the front window, she wrapped her arms around him and turned her back to the window as it shattered, From that point, people began flooding in and out of the now shattered storefront window, and most people seemed to ignore the main door to get in and out of the store. Persephone darted out of the door, with the boy in tow close to her.
In the time it took Persephone and Jordan to make their way outside, there were so many people panicking that she almost couldn't see a man in what looked like a police uniform. But she wasn't close enough to [i connect] with him to make sure she would get his attention especially with all of the commotion going on around them. She would need his attention on her, or to be able to really focus in on him. They couldn't make enough of a path to get more than a few feet from the store front, so the woman wasn't sure of what other options she had. [#C70039 "Jordan. I need you to call for that police officer right there. Yell for help, he'll have to notice your voice compared to all these adults."]
Her reasoning for that went beyond [i a child's voice in distress would get an adult's attention,] but she wasn't wrong, was she? She could see that Jordan was becoming paralyzed with fear, as the distress, chaos, and horror of this once calm day turning into a full-fledged riot.
She didn't want to do this, with people dying and fading into ash with no tangible force to blame for their deaths, seeing someone with [i powers] was absolutely not a smart idea. But Jordan just watched many people literally drain of life, turn to ash, and crumble into nothingness. He needed help, and this wasn't a safe place for anyone to be, including a young boy.
[i I'm going to help you, Jordan.] Persephone thought to herself, before taking in a deep breath. She lifted her hand, and began flicking her wrist in either direction, sending people in the direct vicinity flying out of her path to the police officer. But this wasn't working. Sending a few people out of her path wasn't getting the results she needed. And it wasn't drawing the officer's attention, while gravely draining her of the energy she needed to make this work.
While possessing the ability to use telepathy to communicate to others consistently, Persephone also inhibited the ability to control the real world, [i telekinesis]. The difference between her use of telepathy, and her use of telekinesis was that Persephone could use telepathy without issue to enter the minds of others to communicate, or to inflict their judgement to help her. Using her telepathy would normally be effective to sway someone's judgement but she wouldn't have been able to maintain basic will swaying on this volume of people, which is why she needed her telekinesis.
Controlling the physical world, however was very daunting on the young woman. And unless these tasks were things she could physically do [i with ease], they were short lived and usually caused her to lose the ability to do simple tasks that she does on a normal basis, like walking and carrying her own weight.
[i They'll kill you if you make this more obvious. You saw what happened in the store, you see what people are doing right now.] She knew she had a point. [i But I need to do something.] Her eyes searched quickly, before she found the perfect thing. [i The light pole.] The sound of the steel light pole being wiggled out of the ground itself was enough to catch people's attention. She lowered the light pole, almost as if she were going to lay it horizontally on the ground, before using it to sweep everyone that she could out of the way, clearing a path between her, Jordan, and the police officer.
People gasped, and screamed as they saw the workings of these abilities, an underlying panic of [i this is the freak that's going to kill us] seemed to take over. Her legs began to shake, as she began gently lying the pole back in place, but at the last moment, it just dropped to the floor. With the attention of everyone on her, she locked eyes with the police officer. Just the focus she needed for him to hear her.[#C70039 "Help him."] She projected, before her legs gave out beneath her and she gently pushed Jordan in his direction.
The boy stood close to Persephone for a moment, but when those previously filled with fear and hopelessness at the thought that she was going to kill them began moving in on her, Jordan ran over to the police officer to avoid getting trampled.]]
[i Hot desert sand on his hands, grinding and sticking to the webs between his fingers, hardening and congealing from sweat and blood. The sand was still hot under his stomach as he dragged himself over dune after dune. But when he thought he could barely handle the sweltering heat, night came and so did the cold. But when he saw it, his senses were dulled by the desperation. A pyramid. Salvation! He just had to-]
“Are you listening?” And Marc blinks at that, his feeling of being somewhere faraway disappearing as he's brought back to the present. He blinks again, focusing on the room he was in. Four other people were in the room, two of them crammed around a long oak table with Marc, one of them standing in front of the table pointing at a projector screen. The last person was standing off to his side and a little behind him, a gentle hand on his shoulder. It squeezed lightly. He looks over his shoulder to the blonde woman giving him a small scolding gaze. Marlene. “Pay attention, [i Steven].” She whispers as the man in front drones on. Right, right.
Board room, Grant Industries, downtown Manhattan. He was in a small board meeting at his company. Marc had more than one identity, one of them being [i Steven Grant], a reclusive billionaire playboy philanthropist. His more [i docile] alter ego. Marc Spector himself had too many enemies from his past—too many skeletons in his closet—so this allowed him to hide in plain sight while being able to fund his [i side hobby].
“Just one of the many swift investments that Grant Industries has made. I'm happy to say the money was well spent as Daelus Sequencing has just successfully patented a process for sequencing DNA. Any DNA. Quickly, efficiently, and cheaply.”
[b “And?”] Marc inquires.
“Well, Mr. Grant. It means that when Daelus goes public later this year, you're about to become rich, or at least a very, very wealthy man.” And he grins slightly at that. He was already rich, but he could see that everyone in this room was also very excited to make even more money. The man at the front then bends down and brings up a rectangular box. “I didn't want to get too ahead of myself, but I figured why the hell not.” He pulls out a bottle of champagne and some glasses. “This calls for a celebration!”
Everyone whooped as the man popped the cork, and the small object sped towards Marc. Reflexively his hand came up and he caught it without thinking. Immediately he looks up to see if anyone had noticed but... What the hell?
The man at the front lost all colour. And not in the way someone might've if they thought they saw a ghost. But the entirety of his body turned an ash colour, and before Marc could react, he fell over and vanished in to a cloud of dust. Everyone was immediately up, but soon enough it seemed everyone in the room turned the same colour and flecked away in to nothing. It made no sense. Was this even real? It couldn't be!
[b “Morpheus!”] Marc shouted. It had to be him! He whipped around to Marlene and froze. She was looking down at her hands as the colour from her entire being began to fade to the same monochromatic colour. She looked at her hands in disbelief before she looked up at him.
“Marc?” And before he could reach her, she faded in to ash, his hand passing through it like the desert sand carried on the wind. It took him a second to fight through the sudden haze, desperately grabbing at of all of his mental faculties, and instead of losing his mind like he wanted to, Marc quickly sprints out of the room and up the stairs of the skyscraper.
The roof access was locked with the best security systems money could buy, but Marc used his keycard and was quickly on the roof. There was a familiar flash of silver to his left, but he ignores it as he runs across the roof. The edge lip of the building was raised about twelve feet for extra privacy and security, but there was a raised section of the roof conveniently constructed for such an occasion. He runs up the set of metallic stairs and on to the elevated platform, the wind whipping his tie and his blazer around as he peers over the edge. From up here he couldn't see the details, but the city was [i still]. [i New York City] was never [i still]. But he knew what this was. This was the breath everyone took before everything went to Hell.
And to Hell it went.
You wouldn't have believed him if he told you it was a regular day in Midtown. Well, as regular as it gets in New York City anyways. There was an alien attack earlier but it seemed like it was already getting cleaned up. So many super freaks have been popping up lately that it almost seemed part of everyday life. It just got louder.
Either way, today was just a regular day for John Walker, a police officer who liked to do everything he could by the books. Today he was with his partner, Murphy, who was an old grizzled cop, but the pair ended up working well together, balancing themselves out. They were driving their way back to the precinct after doing a minor coffee run, which was busy work really, but John had lost a bet earlier that week to another officer and this was it. Murphy had made a remark about how the real police work would get done after they were done with this errand. And oh boy, John didn't realize the half of it.
[+blue “Murph, you pulling a little too far to the left.”] John said as they crossed the line. [+blue “Murph!”] John shouted and looked at his partner. All he saw was the outline of Murphy fade in to nothing.
Then there was impact. Screaming metal on metal. The airbag like a shot gun blast. Then black.
He didn't know how long he was out, but when John finally woke up, it was to a splitting head ache. His vision was blurry for a moment but it quickly focused and he could see out of the shattered windshield. The front of the car was wrapped around a telephone pole and it looked like John was lucky to be alive. And then the thought struck him. [+blue “Murph?!”] And he turned his head to look at the driver seat to see that it was empty. He didn't believe it at first and then he stepped out of the car. People were standing around, looking at each other, and then the same thing that happened to Murphy began happening to many other people.
It was a surreal experience to watch as the city stood still, a number of its occupants turning in to dust. Perhaps it was because he had already seen it happen. Perhaps it was because he's seen many strange things in his life as a cop and in the military. Or perhaps it was because of something buried deep in his psyche that braced him for what happened next.
At first it was screaming and yelling at the disappearance of friends and loved ones. Then a well placed trash can through a storefront turned the panic in to a full scale riot. People were running and screaming, in no direction because there was no perceived threat they could run from. It became utter chaos in a matter of seconds, and John was the only person in uniform in the vicinity. It made him a beacon of stability and order... But it also made him a target in a riot.
A woman came running towards John hysterical about a child, and at the same time two men came his way as well. The second the woman was within range, he grabs the woman's wrist and yanks her behind him, quickly pulling out his gun and aiming it at the two men. At the sight of the weapon it seemed that the two suddenly had bigger fish to fry, turning around to rejoin the rioting.
“We have to find them!” The woman seemed to be less hysterical now.
[+blue “There's plenty of things that need to be done. Are you their mother?”] And the woman shakes her head.
“I'm Jordan's caretaker, we rotate weekly. You don't understand; Jordan is special... [i gifted]. Its important that we find-”
[+blue “Its okay, ma'am. We'll find Jordan.”] He says, trying not to look around at how not okay things were. As a lone officer in the middle of this, there wasn't anything he could do, so this gave him something more stable. Finding a child in this chaos would be messy, but definitely important for Jordan's safety. But John needed back-up.
Immediately he's on his radio, but no one answered. Just static and interference. [i Shit.] They probably had their hands full as is anyways. It looked like the whole city was affected by whatever the hell had just happened, and he was on his own. [+blue “I'm gonna need you to get somewhere safe ma'am. I'll find Jordan, don't you worry.”]
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