( the stench of divinity's impossible to miss for someone who knows what they're looking for, even if it's not marc himself, it's what he's been touched by. what's claimed him.
khonshu isn't here. marc doesn't even know that khonshu has been freed from his imprisonment on asgard, and so what stephen might see or recognise in him — flickers, potential, opportunity — go completely missed.
the shift in light does grant him confirmation — any similarities to the strange he knows are superficial at best. there's a familiarity in the arch of his brow, but he's paler, more gaunt. the structure of his features are as if someone was trying to build strange from a description and managed to get it close enough but not quite right. it's— well, it's not his first rodeo with the multiverse, and though he hates it, though it's not really his wheelhouse at the best of times, it means— )
No. ( to the I take it we've met. the papers get placed down without care atop the drawer he'd pulled them from, and he turns to face stephen more fully. the water sloshes, laps higher about his legs — uncomfortable, but whatever. it's not deep enough that he's concerned about it, not yet. he's survived worse. ) I've worked with, ( the slightest of slides of attention, from stephen to the cloak and back again; a gesture with a hand. ) A man with the same name and that cloak.
( the frown that accompanies his response isn't displeased. it isn't even particularly unhappy, it's just the tense, tight, tired lines of a man who seems to wear a frown as his default expression.
he hasn't yet noticed the egregiousness of stephen's shadow — but then, there are a lot of strange shadows here.
his hand hovers for a breath before he opts to straighten his tie, a flicker of something in his expression. the question's not a difficult one, but the answer's contingent on who he wants to be known as.
it'd be easier if he had his mask. simpler. then, it'd just be 'mr. knight'. ) —Spector. ( he makes no attempts to clarify the spelling, the difference between his name and 'spectre'.
👌fabulous, fam
khonshu isn't here. marc doesn't even know that khonshu has been freed from his imprisonment on asgard, and so what stephen might see or recognise in him — flickers, potential, opportunity — go completely missed.
the shift in light does grant him confirmation — any similarities to the strange he knows are superficial at best. there's a familiarity in the arch of his brow, but he's paler, more gaunt. the structure of his features are as if someone was trying to build strange from a description and managed to get it close enough but not quite right. it's— well, it's not his first rodeo with the multiverse, and though he hates it, though it's not really his wheelhouse at the best of times, it means— )
No. ( to the I take it we've met. the papers get placed down without care atop the drawer he'd pulled them from, and he turns to face stephen more fully. the water sloshes, laps higher about his legs — uncomfortable, but whatever. it's not deep enough that he's concerned about it, not yet. he's survived worse. ) I've worked with, ( the slightest of slides of attention, from stephen to the cloak and back again; a gesture with a hand. ) A man with the same name and that cloak.
( the frown that accompanies his response isn't displeased. it isn't even particularly unhappy, it's just the tense, tight, tired lines of a man who seems to wear a frown as his default expression.
he hasn't yet noticed the egregiousness of stephen's shadow — but then, there are a lot of strange shadows here.
his hand hovers for a breath before he opts to straighten his tie, a flicker of something in his expression. the question's not a difficult one, but the answer's contingent on who he wants to be known as.
it'd be easier if he had his mask. simpler. then, it'd just be 'mr. knight'. ) —Spector. ( he makes no attempts to clarify the spelling, the difference between his name and 'spectre'.
it's probably deliberate. )