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June-July 2024 Test Drive Meme
June-July 2024 TDM
Introduction
Welcome to Folkmore's monthly Test Drive Meme! Please feel free to test drive any and all characters regardless of your intent to apply or whether you have an invite or not.
All TDMs are game canon and work like "mini-events". For new players and characters, you can choose to have your TDM thread be your introduction thread upon acceptance or start fresh. Current players are also allowed to have in-game characters post to the TDM so long as they mark their top levels ‘Current Character.’
TDM threads can be used for spoon spending at any time by characters accepted into the game.
Playing and interacting with the TDMs will allow characters to immediately obtain canon items from homes especially weapons or other things they may have had on their person when they were pulled from their worlds! There will always be a prompt that provides some sort of "reward" to characters who complete certain tasks.
🦊 New Star Children meet the Fox still in their worlds, and she brings them into the new realm of Folkmore. As you follow her, your body begins to change and new characteristics emerge. These may stay for a while, or perhaps they will hide away after. And during all of this, the Fox explains to you where you will be going: to Folkmore.
and then... you fall like a shooting star, falling to the land in a burst of starlight.
🦊 Experienced Star Children are already familiar with this time of the month. There are shooting stars all across the sky, and some fall to the land, which means the Fox has brought new arrivals. These newly arrived Star Children will face some tests, but Thirteen wants the more seasoned residents to participate as well.
Perhaps you follow the falling stars on your own, or perhaps the Fox simply teleports you there, but it appears you too will be part of this.
Content Warnings: Ghosts, Potential Violence, Potential Death
Summer has hit. It's hot, and nowhere is it hotter than Cruel Summer. Naturally, new Star Children arrive in Cruel Summer with no indication of which direction to go to escape, unless they're so lucky as to arrive near the Selkie River. The water provides a break, and a selkie skin will protect Star Children from the heat. Though beware the cruelty of leaving a selkie without their skin. Along with the heat, Star Children can hear whispers and the echoes of screams throughout Cruel Summer. There's no obvious source of the noises. Not the normal creatures. Not anything anyone can see.
Whether new or old Star Child, anyone lost, overheated, in need of a rest, or anything else will find a friendly spirit will find them in the sands, rock, or shores of Cruel Summer. They'll guide the way toward the huts found in Cruel Summer. These huts have changed; the huts are bigger and grow together, making them one interconnected twisting winding empty town. No one appears to live there. The wooden town is in disrepair, varying from building to building. Even so, they are cool inside, a welcome break from the summer heat.
No matter how one entered, even through the swinging doors to the saloon, that exit disappears behind Star Children. There's no turning back. The only way out is to explore the way through the buildings. This fact continues to be true building to building as exits continue to vanish. The abandoned town isn't as empty as it first seems. As Star Children explore the branching paths through the wooden structures, they see ghosts of spirits going through the paces of their lives. They're familiar to these spaces and interact with missing objects that sometimes shimmer in spirit energy.
Spirit Children may interrupt these routines to try to talk with the ghosts. Some ghostly spirits are friendly. They may interact with Star Children as though they're someone else, someone the spirits used to know. Others, like the bartender, may treat them like a new customer. Other ghosts are determined to stick to their routines and, should Star Children continue to interrupt, will attack those who disturb them.
These spirits may kill Star Children when they attack. Normal weapons won't hurt them. There are revolvers, shotguns, iron pokers, hunting knives, and other plain weapons around to grab in self-defense. Salt bullets and iron will dispel ghosts. These weapons may be grabbed at any time. However, doing so attracts the creatures in Cruel Summer. A blood red worm spitting yellow acid may break through the floor to eat or spray Star Children. An enormous coyote may leap through the window. Whether attracted by the use of weapons or passing by, any dangerous creature found in Cruel Summer seems agitated when they come near these structures and will attack them and anyone inside. They will focus especially on anyone with a stolen selkie skin.
Should Star Children die, whether to ghosts or creatures, they will not immediately return to life.Do not pass go. Instead they will haunt the ghost town for one week in the room where they were killed. Other Star Children may recognize them and work to snap them out of their routines. Yet nothing will free the Star Children's spirits before the week is through. At the end of the week, they'll come to, alive, in their bodies in the room they died in. Best get through and out of the ghost town before dying again!
A constant through these scenes are the spirits' spoons, visible somewhere in each scene. The ghost spoons are whole. Once free of the ghost town, Star Children may choose to travel to the Shattered Spoon Shrine in Never Fade to search for the broken fragments of any of these spoons. They are in such small pieces, however, that no Star Child may feed them enough Lore alone to bring the spirit back. Two or more Star Children may spend time in the Shrine creating and feeding Lore toward the spoons to heal them. It just may be enough to bring someone back.
Summer has hit. It's hot, and nowhere is it hotter than Cruel Summer. Naturally, new Star Children arrive in Cruel Summer with no indication of which direction to go to escape, unless they're so lucky as to arrive near the Selkie River. The water provides a break, and a selkie skin will protect Star Children from the heat. Though beware the cruelty of leaving a selkie without their skin. Along with the heat, Star Children can hear whispers and the echoes of screams throughout Cruel Summer. There's no obvious source of the noises. Not the normal creatures. Not anything anyone can see.
Whether new or old Star Child, anyone lost, overheated, in need of a rest, or anything else will find a friendly spirit will find them in the sands, rock, or shores of Cruel Summer. They'll guide the way toward the huts found in Cruel Summer. These huts have changed; the huts are bigger and grow together, making them one interconnected twisting winding empty town. No one appears to live there. The wooden town is in disrepair, varying from building to building. Even so, they are cool inside, a welcome break from the summer heat.
No matter how one entered, even through the swinging doors to the saloon, that exit disappears behind Star Children. There's no turning back. The only way out is to explore the way through the buildings. This fact continues to be true building to building as exits continue to vanish. The abandoned town isn't as empty as it first seems. As Star Children explore the branching paths through the wooden structures, they see ghosts of spirits going through the paces of their lives. They're familiar to these spaces and interact with missing objects that sometimes shimmer in spirit energy.
Spirit Children may interrupt these routines to try to talk with the ghosts. Some ghostly spirits are friendly. They may interact with Star Children as though they're someone else, someone the spirits used to know. Others, like the bartender, may treat them like a new customer. Other ghosts are determined to stick to their routines and, should Star Children continue to interrupt, will attack those who disturb them.
These spirits may kill Star Children when they attack. Normal weapons won't hurt them. There are revolvers, shotguns, iron pokers, hunting knives, and other plain weapons around to grab in self-defense. Salt bullets and iron will dispel ghosts. These weapons may be grabbed at any time. However, doing so attracts the creatures in Cruel Summer. A blood red worm spitting yellow acid may break through the floor to eat or spray Star Children. An enormous coyote may leap through the window. Whether attracted by the use of weapons or passing by, any dangerous creature found in Cruel Summer seems agitated when they come near these structures and will attack them and anyone inside. They will focus especially on anyone with a stolen selkie skin.
Should Star Children die, whether to ghosts or creatures, they will not immediately return to life.
A constant through these scenes are the spirits' spoons, visible somewhere in each scene. The ghost spoons are whole. Once free of the ghost town, Star Children may choose to travel to the Shattered Spoon Shrine in Never Fade to search for the broken fragments of any of these spoons. They are in such small pieces, however, that no Star Child may feed them enough Lore alone to bring the spirit back. Two or more Star Children may spend time in the Shrine creating and feeding Lore toward the spoons to heal them. It just may be enough to bring someone back.
- Whispers, echoes of screams, etc become common throughout Cruel Summer
- Huts become bigger, interconnected, growing together. Anyone lost, overheated, in need of something in Cruel Summer gets a friendly spirit redirecting them to these buildings
- Buildings will still be in some state of disrepair, but like a whole twisting winding town
- Insides are a cool respite
supernatural ghost spirit air conditioning - Only way out is through, no turning back, as the exits disappear behind you
- Many are friendly, but some are not. One can attempt to talk to them, but how interactive they are varies
- Occasionally other creatures from Cruel Summer may burst in and attack
- If a Star Child dies, rather than return to life immediately, they stay a ghost for about a week, part of the tour
Content Warnings: Fire, Coerced Confessions
Fire! Fire across the realm! For the second half of June, wildfire burns everywhere. While it doesn’t hurt Star Children, it can reduce everything else to ash: homes, businesses, gardens, spirits. The local spirits will be in a panic and beg Star Children for help from small ice mice in Wintermute to fennec foxes in Cruel Summer. How can Star Children help? Confessions. Anything the person they are with doesn’t know. The more earnest and meaningful the better.
When wildfire erupts and spreads, Star Children may stand in or in front of an area they want to protect and confess something to another Star Child who happens to be nearby. Their neighbor? Their partner? A stranger lost in a new land? These confessions simply need to be something the other person doesn’t know to protect structures and spirits. Memories related to the confession will show in the fire. The fire will fuel these memories until they run out of energy, dying down to embers. At least in that place at that time.
Should something start to burn before someone confesses, multiple confessions are necessary to catch the wildfire’s attention and distract it from the fuel source it is feeding on. Two or more Star Children will need to make confessions whose memories are shared in the flames. Water powers can also help quell the flames, but confessions are necessary in the end.
Once July hits, the wildfires are mostly gone, only sparking up here and there on occasion. In their stead are embers. They spark in the air like fireflies and fly around Folkmore, attracted to Star Children. These embers land on Star Children and make them glow. There’s no pain. In fact, the embers provide sparks of insight into memories, situations, and other emotional dilemmas that Star Children haven’t previously understood. Talking the issue over with another Star Children provides further emotional clarity.
Spirits are welcoming to both embers and Star Children. Confessionshelp Folkmore grow as well. Gardens bloom in beautiful displays. Crops grow healthy and joyful. It’s even possible to hear humming from some of the vegetables and fruits. The land grows with the Star Children. Anyone who lacks a green thumb can work their way around that with confessions! Save that dying plant and grow those tomatoes.
One time that a Star Child confesses, either to wildfire or to embers, they will find a jeweled box shaped like a flame. The peak of the flame comes off to reveal the insides. Within, there is an item from home. It may even be a weapon or magical item. Larger more meaningful confessions are more likely to receive weapons. These items may even be larger than should fit in the box or its entrance. Whether the box should only hold a single ring or fill the palm of one’s hand, these items fit. Star Children also can keep the jeweled box, and this one item from home can be stored within the box. Other items too large to fit the box will not enter it. Only the one from the box.
Fire! Fire across the realm! For the second half of June, wildfire burns everywhere. While it doesn’t hurt Star Children, it can reduce everything else to ash: homes, businesses, gardens, spirits. The local spirits will be in a panic and beg Star Children for help from small ice mice in Wintermute to fennec foxes in Cruel Summer. How can Star Children help? Confessions. Anything the person they are with doesn’t know. The more earnest and meaningful the better.
When wildfire erupts and spreads, Star Children may stand in or in front of an area they want to protect and confess something to another Star Child who happens to be nearby. Their neighbor? Their partner? A stranger lost in a new land? These confessions simply need to be something the other person doesn’t know to protect structures and spirits. Memories related to the confession will show in the fire. The fire will fuel these memories until they run out of energy, dying down to embers. At least in that place at that time.
Should something start to burn before someone confesses, multiple confessions are necessary to catch the wildfire’s attention and distract it from the fuel source it is feeding on. Two or more Star Children will need to make confessions whose memories are shared in the flames. Water powers can also help quell the flames, but confessions are necessary in the end.
Once July hits, the wildfires are mostly gone, only sparking up here and there on occasion. In their stead are embers. They spark in the air like fireflies and fly around Folkmore, attracted to Star Children. These embers land on Star Children and make them glow. There’s no pain. In fact, the embers provide sparks of insight into memories, situations, and other emotional dilemmas that Star Children haven’t previously understood. Talking the issue over with another Star Children provides further emotional clarity.
Spirits are welcoming to both embers and Star Children. Confessions
One time that a Star Child confesses, either to wildfire or to embers, they will find a jeweled box shaped like a flame. The peak of the flame comes off to reveal the insides. Within, there is an item from home. It may even be a weapon or magical item. Larger more meaningful confessions are more likely to receive weapons. These items may even be larger than should fit in the box or its entrance. Whether the box should only hold a single ring or fill the palm of one’s hand, these items fit. Star Children also can keep the jeweled box, and this one item from home can be stored within the box. Other items too large to fit the box will not enter it. Only the one from the box.
- Last two weeks of June, wildfire burns across Folkmore. After that, they are rare.
- Confessions can protect or rescue buildings, land areas, and spirits.
- Come July, embers spark across Folkmore like fireflies. They provide insight for Star Children. Talking helps.
- Confessions help the land grow.
- Confessions reveal a jeweled box containing an item from home.
cw: death......
ridiculous—. fine! )
I wanted to be an astronaut as a kid. ( it's a hurried answer, entirely impatient. later, it'll take marc by surprise, a long forgotten memory of a bedroom decorated with star charts and posters — star wars and star trek — and stickers (darth vader was cool—), a telescope pointed at a window, one that'd become dustier year after year after year before it was forgotten entirely. a relic of happier times, before marc had been told he was "sick", before he was "difficult" and "problematic"—.
for now, though, he circles back to the other topic, the one that's less ridiculous.
(is it? or is it just ridiculous in its own way? he gets caught on the thought that the only thing he's ever brought his loved ones is hurt and pain. elias. randall. marlene. jean-paul. greer.
his hand hovers above the bridge of his nose.)
abruptly— ) It's not the dying that's the problem, it's the coming back.
( he doesn't know which steven's referring to: death, or the bit that comes after. dying sucks. it hurts. marc knows this. he'd been surprised that first time, in the desert and beneath the sun, just by how much he hadn't wanted to die. he hadn't really given thought, at the time, to just what he'd given up for a chance to live. for the opportunity to have his miserable-fucking-life back. but. but—.
it wasn't as simple as just continuing. it wasn't as simple as picking up where he'd left off. he hadn't known who (what) marc spector was, had been content to throw the reins over to steven and to jake, to bury marc spector down deep because that's what you did to dead men, wasn't it? you buried them. )
Who are you?
ty ty... i always forget to cw
Before he can comment on it to offer some levity, Marc mentions dying instead, talking about it like he's experienced it before, and Steven is both confused and concerned. This is a lot. Maybe he should have led with asking if the guy's okay, if he's new, introduced him a bit - ]
Oh, right, we probably should've led with that, yeah? [Steven tries to laugh it off even though the sound is bubbled with lingering nerves. He offers the other a little smile despite the intensity.] My name's Steven. I've been here quite some time, so uncomfortable sharing is all too normal for me.
[He pulls a face at the idea, clearly disliking admitting so out loud, but then he's asking:] Are you new? What's your name?
lmf honestly! altho alternatively: "idk man it's moon knight"
(after all, that'd been the reason why romanoff had kicked him off the team the first time, hadn't it? there had been jean-paul related PROBLEMS and he hadn't felt inclined to share, hadn't felt inclined to go into details, and as far as he'd been concerned, they'd trumped whatever it was the avengers had been dealing with at the time.)
so there's a layla that's not layla, and there's a steven that marc doesn't clock as steven. the steven that marc knows is from chicago too. he'd had an absent father (where marc's had been emotionally unavailable—). he'd wanted to be famous and to be rich, and he was good with numbers. good at investing, and good in board rooms. smooth and smart and suave, polished and charismatic. he's all the things that marc isn't, all the things that marlene had wanted ( him ) to be.
(no, not all of them, because steven and marlene had argued almost as much as marc and marlene—.) )
Funny. ( except it's not, and marc's tone reflects the fact that he's only saying it because it's not. the set of his jaw, meanwhile, says that he's not inclined to elaborate on why or what is (or isn't) funny.
in theory, it's an easy question, but marc's not quite sure how he wants to reply. in any other circumstance, it'd be 'mr. knight', but he's not, not here. he doesn't have the mask, and mr. knight had never punched his father. mr. knight had never dreamed of being an astronaut, had never had a child's bedroom. mr. knight was a creation, a persona pulled together because marc spector had succeeded in torching every positive aspect of his own life, had ruined every single good thing that moon knight had managed to do.
that's a confession marc has made to only two people in his life.
(maybe he's dreaming—. the thought occurs to him and his gaze darts from steven to their surroundings. he thinks of morpheus and he thinks of steven-jake-moon knight, the time they'd fought, and this is different, but that doesn't mean it's real.
and if it's not—.) ) Spector.
no subject
The one he's given is clearly surprising to Steven, though not because of any bad connotations - in fact, he and his Marc have never been better - but it's not a very common one, is it? The personal connection is very on the nose and suddenly Steven is far more aware of what this man is wearing, eyes flickering down over the white suit without the jacket, the eerie familiarity he'd been ignoring before somehow more prominent. Are those moons on the buttons, or just an odd choice in fashion?]
Spector. [It's his turn to repeat the name slowly and Steven has the gall to look around them then, as if he's anticipating someone will jump out of the dying flames and toss some new trial his way, like this is a joke.
A part of him almost doesn't want to put two and two together. His brain is gently rejecting the puzzle pieces, and yet, at once, it's inevitable that they'll click in place soon. Steven isn't one to shut his eyes and ears and pretend everything's alright - not anymore. It would be odd to assume this is anything strange if they weren't here and if this man wasn't wearing that and he hadn't already met "multiverse" versions of other people before.]
Is- [Ah. His heart is suddenly racing, though he isn't nervous so much as anxious, and not scared so much as intensely curious. Eyes shift colors again against his will, no longer a dark blue, brightening with a greenish gold he can't stop.] Sorry if this is weird to ask but is your first name... Marc?
no subject
marc spector, the mercenary, the war criminal.
moon knight, the crazy guy, the man that'd carved moons into foreheads, who'd cut off another man's face, who'd tried to take over the world because his god had said so.
marc is used to being known, and in any other situation, to anyone else, his reaction would be different. his reaction would be to lean into that — what other choice did he have? — he'd choose to take it and to turn to his advantage as best he could, but this isn't quite that. this is a man who doesn't look like steven saying his name is steven, saying he knows layla.
(steven had never known layla—.)
steven looks him up and down, steven takes note of the moons on the suit. marc takes note of the way that steven's eyes change from blue to green to gold to something in-between, and he decides it answers a question he'd not intended on asking.
he presses his lips together, a short-lived action interrupted by a single, solitary shake of his head that's more frustration than it is anything else. pointedly, deliberately— )
I didn't say 'Marc'.
( it's not a 'no', but names are a funny thing, aren't they? identity and self-perception intertwined, and marc's always been funny about what people call him.
he'd almost forgotten about the fire, about the flames. he looks away from steven for a moment, to the embers of what had been. a breath and a concession and a sidelong glance— ) —Grant, right?
no subject
[He can't help but respond cheekily, though where 'Spector' is seemingly frustrated by this scenario, Steven looks positively fascinated. He's openly staring - incredibly rude, sorry - because if this really is Marc Spector, it isn't like the two Steve Rogers he's met - he looks completely different. Not even vaguely similar beyond, perhaps, the choice in white suits.
The use of his surname is all the confirmation Steven needs though and it lights up that anxious feeling even brighter, though it's not necessarily a bad anxious, albeit one that's likely to nudge him toward yet another existential crisis pretty soon. What's another to add to the list, right?]
Yes. How did you- I mean- Yeah, that's my name but... you're not- [He tries to be careful in what he says, mindful of how his Marc would react to a sudden declaration of not being "right." That's not what he means to say at all.
Arms drop slowly and then he's gesturing between them, that nervous energy returning with a spark of excitement instead.] You don't seem very surprised.
no subject
That wasn't Layla. ( he says, gesturing at where the image of layla and steven had flickered into life and then, just as quickly, faded. it's meant as an answer as to why he's not outwardly, notably surprised, but it's the sort of non-answer that marc's best at, the sort that makes sense to him but often lacks the verbalisation of linking details for it to make immediate sense to anyone else.
after that, he closes the distance between the two of them with a step, displeasure sitting in the lines of his face and the curve of his lips. ) Close enough, ( he admits, careful and bitter all at once. ) But she died twelve years ago.
( he lets that sit for a moment and he takes in the differences again — the accent (what is that?), the energy, the excitement, the curiousness, the hair, the—. a flicker of consideration, and then his expression smooths — it doesn't soften, not really, but marc seems to reach a decision that's reflected in his features, and he waves a hand, dismissive. disinterested.
where steven had been careful with what he'd said for concern of how marc would react, marc's the opposite. it's intentional, then, when he tells steven— ) And you're not him.
( marc's met versions of himself before, moon knights and not-quite-moon knights with the same and different mission. he's been to space (not his thing, actually—). he knows the multiverse exists. surprise would be for a younger marc, one who spent his evenings asking a statue what he was supposed to be doing, who had a lingering fear that he was mad.
and — crucially, perhaps — even if he was surprised, surprise is an emotion that, like so many others for marc, morphs quickly into frustration and anger. he can't do anything with surprise, but he can do things with anger. ) It doesn't take much to figure out if that was supposed to be her, someone calling himself Steven is playing at being Grant.
( a beat and a concession, still just as forceful. ) I've seen stranger.
cw: general hollywood DID stuff
You're thinking of another Layla. [Spoken careful but far more firm this time, because after all they've been through, he refuses to let someone else tell him his reality isn't "right."] Because she's very real, and I don't think she'd like hearing you say that to her face. Wouldn't take it as nicely either.
[Despite this not going how he would've hoped, the first thing that comes to mind is how his Marc will take this, and how they'll have to deal with the reality together. At least they have each other.
The paranoia about his identity and sense of self he's been working so very hard to establish here claws its way back to the surface with just a few simple words: you're not him. The feeling gets stuck in his chest and throat. It doesn't take a genius to understand what this Marc means, especially when the reality of his existence is one Steven struggles with on a daily basis. He'd been getting better about it, feeling more confident, but apparently not better enough.
Even so, despite the way he wants to run from this situation, he steels himself (still feeling that tightness in his chest, still breathing shallower than before) and doesn't move away, a heavy frown set in his expression as the other Marc steps closer. He's taller, sure, and broader, but Steven refuses to be intimidated.]
I'm not playing at anything. I am Steven. Maybe not your Steven, but you're not my Marc. [He hates to put it that way but if that's how this is going to go...] You don't have to be an arse about it.
no subject
andrea had asked marc once what their — steven and jake's — opinions were on everything marc did, on his tendency to make unilateral decisions for all of them. marc had been forced to reach the conclusion, had been forced to speak aloud the fact that he's never asked.
(he knows their opinions on moon knight, he doesn't need to ask that. the rest of it—.
he's always had his assumptions. he's never bothered to find out if he was right.)
but in all of it, he's never thought of either of them as being his, even if marc's never been particularly free with allowing them control over their lives, over the body. not since the early days, not after his desperate attempt to convince marlene and jean-paul and gena and crawley that they were just disguises he could don at a moment's notice, identities useful for being moon knight and nothing more. ) And Grant's his own person, he's not my anything.
( that's where he almost stops, where he almost leaves it. he takes a step back and half-turns, prepared to have that be the end of his half of the conversation before—.
mm. he's always hated it when people have the wrong idea, always hated when he hasn't been able to control the narrative of how he's perceived. steven tells him he doesn't have to be an arse, but marc has a point to make. about who marc spector is in comparison to steven grant, whoever steven grant is. marc's the unreasonable one, the difficult one.
that's the point of him. )
—I didn't say Layla wasn't real. I said the one I knew is dead. That whoever that was that you held, had die in your arms—. ( it does occur to him as he speaks that there's a better way to put it, but marc has never extended himself pleasantries, has never extended himself grace. the person that marc has always been worst to is himself — and by extension, steven and jake. blunt and pointed, no need nor want to couch anything in niceties, to soften his words. ) Wasn't her. I'd be happy to tell her myself, the woman I knew was never fond of obfuscation for the sake of feelings.
no subject
He isn't at his best.
He takes a deep breath, eyes briefly closing as if trying to compose himself. His eyes revert to their usual brown at least, meaning he's calmed down. Hands come up in a gesture of quiet appeasement, whether the other wants it or not.]
Perhaps we're all very different then, but surely there's a reason why we're also... similar. I've met quite a few people here who are- [Another vague gesture with his hands, like he doesn't quite know how to say it.] -multi-versal versions of themselves. It isn't the first time I've seen it but it's the first time it's someone- [a pause] -me.
I don't mean to compare, it's just so fascinating, I can't help but have a million questions.
no subject
well, the problem, predominately, is that marc has never been a particularly curious man. he's never asked many questions. he'd been happy to do as he'd been told in the marines, happy to do as he was told as a mercenary, right up until the point that he wasn't. right up until the point he discovered he had a conscience after all, when raul had managed to go a step too far, even for marc.
he hadn't asked questions, not even when khonshu had said that the only way to stop mephisto was for khonshu himself to rule, for marc to fight his friends and take their powers.
his only response is sharp. )
What?
no subject
[He repeats, unsure if Marc wants him to actually ask him things here and now in the middle of the street, with the fires still blazing, or if he's just... annoyed. "Annoyed" seems to be the default mood here.]
You don't? You're not curious at all? This is an every day occurrence for you?
[As interested as Steven is, he's also been incredibly private about certain details of his personal life in Folkmore. He isn't sure if he trusts this Marc yet, which he honestly feels guilty even thinking.]
no subject
No. ( he admits. ) But like I said, I've seen stranger.
( and then he looks past steven, to the remaining fires in the relative distance before shooting steven a sidelong glance. it's meant as a 'if you want to talk, we're walking and talking' kind of glance, punctuated by marc saying precisely nothing to relay the intention.
what he does say is— ) What is there to be curious about?
( neither marc nor steven had ever told marlene that their father was even alive, not until she'd been the one to answer the call asking for him to visit before he passed. none of them had ever been honest about THEMSELVES, preferring instead to lean into the story that each identity was a disguise to shrug on and off as needed for moon knight.
there are details of his life that exist in the public arena, in the consciousness of people from his world because of how high profile it'd been — moon knight, the guy who makes all the wrong decisions.
he's got enough of his own guilt to carry around, his debt and his duty. what of that would be something he'd want to share, want to compare and contrast? it sounds like his worst nightmare. )
no subject
He's fine with walking, and maybe their discussion will help put out even more fires along the way. Steven keeps an eye out for any stray spirits or other residents who may need help too, not wanting to leave behind anyone in dire need.]
For starters, I'm curious what the... Grant you know is like. [He shoots the other a sidelong glance, using the surname he seems to prefer.] What makes us so different? What does he do?
[Is he here too? Steven doesn't even want to mention the fact that he and Marc are not currently in the same body. It's been a distressing experience by its own right.]
no subject
Investment. Started off with real estate, moved into movies. ( and other stuff, he doesn't say, the sort of things that sit in nebulous legality, the sort of things that mean that it's not just marc, it's steven too, that can say he knows some of the worst men in the world. the sort of things that meant it made sense for grant and not spector to be the person called on for a mission in symkaria, one spent in a room full of rich men and poor women.
it's easier to answer the question about what steven does than what makes them different, purely because all marc has to go on for that is body language, is vibe. the nervous energy and excitability that seems to be all-encompassing for this steven in contrast to the cool, calmness of—
"his" steven. ) Not British. ( or whatever they'll accent is. once upon a time, marc had pretended to be a reporter from manchester but ateven's accent isn't that. london, maybe. estuary—? either way, strange for steven grant. ) Does a lot for charity. Society events, galas. ( used to host them, he doesn't add, before marc had made a mess of that part of their life.
thinly, wry and dry with faint amusement, what he does add is— ) Steven's used to high society and the finer things in life. He's never much liked my lifestyle.
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Steven's never had or needed the finer things in life, content to live in his state of chaotic disarray, because it's all he's ever really known. Losing time and constant exhaustion never really made for anything else.]
What kind of lifestyle is yours, then? [He prods next, suspiciously quiet about everything else, but he has a lot running through his mind for now.]
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while it doesn't escape his notice that steven hasn't offered anything up about himself, hasn't offered commentary on whether (other) steven's life mirrors or contrasts his own, he's also expressed no surprise, no bafflement about the suit, about the hard-to-miss moon details. either he's not observant, marc thinks, which is unlikely if there's even a sliver of similarity between the two grants, or he knows precisely what that means. )
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[Knowing Moon Knight is a thread of connection between them is strangely comforting. He may be newer to all of that but he still understands, even if he (blessedly) hasn't seen or spoken to Khonshu in over a year.]
Is that something you don't... share, then? He isn't part of it? [He hesitates a moment before adding:] It was all still relatively new to me before I woke up here.
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Not often. ( a beat. wait, clarification—. ) We have our skill sets. ( it's the euphemistic way of putting it, a way of saying that steven doesn't like to get his hands dirty. ) We've had ten years to figure out what works, what he's good at and what I'm good at. ( and jake. marc assumes, of course, that the only reason that jake hasn't been mentioned is because here and now, it's just steven and it's just marc. )
Steven has a delicate touch.
( prefers a delicate touch. )
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Even so, hearing the Steven Grant the other knows has a delicate touch makes him smile, something like relief playing across his expression.]
That- That's good. Brilliant, actually. It sounds like you work well together. [Or so he assumes - hopes.] I'm not too fond of the whole vigilante justice business either, though I understood why Marc had to, or at least... why he felt like he should.
[Even these small confessions as they talk seem to be working with the flames around them, little by little, even though they're no longer paying attention to any of that.]
I'm sorry if I came off a little defensive. [A short, breathless laugh, Steven looking up at the other again.] It's not every day you run into someone who knows you from another life. World. Universe? It's all a bit mad, isn't it? This place makes you doubt so much as it is.
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he's never bothered to ask whether that's the truth.
but there it is. "I understood why marc had to." marc meets steven's gaze, unhappy and searching, as he continues, as he apologises for being defensive (was that what that was? cute—), as he follows it up with someone that knows you, but— )
I don't know you. ( level and blunt, even if it's not quite true. if it was, this conversation would be different, and marc would be— well, perhaps not agreeable, but less disagreeable.
that the other marc's (still) moon knight hangs unsaid in the silence between them. marc knows what that means for him, the debt and the duty and the regret, thick and heavy. it means he can guess at what it means for (other) marc and abruptly, deeply, he's hit by the realisation that the last thing he wants is to meet this other version of himself.
none of this is about steven, not really. as ever, it's about marc and how marc feels about himself. how that's reflected in steven. )
Don't make the mistake of thinking we're anything alike.
( him and marc, not him and steven, even if marc doesn't bother with clarification, and the comment's uttered as he looks back to the fires. precisely none of marc's responses this time count as a confession and the realisation sits alongside the realisation that unless they come across anyone else, they're stuck together for however long it takes to get rid of the remainder.
marc presses his lips together, pauses, and without looking back to steven, mutters a soft, quiet noise that's almost a 'fuck'.
(he hates this.)
(he almost says he doesn't need to be somewhere new to be overwhelmed with doubt—.) )
—And we don't get along. ( a sidelong glance, something that borders on self-awareness. a gesture with a hand and, lightly, glibly— ) I'm difficult.
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[Steven can't help but push back - it's in his nature - because even though he is trying to be nice here, his annoyance levels are gradually rising as well, despite trying his best to be polite. This is a strange situation to be thrust into, though he keeps reminding himself that this or any other Marc would not be taking any of this lightly, and the reaction is... expected.
Calling himself "difficult" makes Steven chuckle though, nodding his head to one side as if to say well, yeah.]
You can say that again. It's good to be self-aware. [He can't help but tease, glancing to the flames and then back to Marc.] I didn't get along with the Marc I know either - not at first. Sometimes we still butt heads. This place has helped a lot, admittedly.
[Along with dying and all the rest that happened but he isn't about to bring that up out of the blue.]
Look, maybe hanging around these fires isn't doing us any favors, yeah? No one around here seems to be in any danger, they must've evacuated.
not me realising i managed to misread an entire sentence that last tag WHEEZE SORRY FAM 💀
( and it is, kind of. it's the sort of joke that marc — or steven! — would have made in earnest, the sort of joke that would've slot neatly alongside steven's responses to samuels whenever there was mail for marc. the "I'll read it to him"s that no-one else had found especially funny. unfortunately, it's not how ( this ) steven had meant it, which is what makes it distinctly unfunny, which is where the bones of contention sneak into it.
but that's where he leaves it for the moment, point made. they don't know each other, not really — or at least, that's what he's telling himself — not from this life or any other. familiar names and a shared duty, that's it.
—but that doesn't mean there isn't a question, one prompted by what steven says after that. "this place has helped." what's with that? what does that mean? how—. the only times marc has quote-unquote encountered steven and jake has been— morpheus.
(but then, something like that'd make sense, wouldn't it? given the comment about this place making it difficult to know what's real and what's not.)
he almost isn't listening when steven says that sticking around where they are probably isn't the best bet, his attention shifting towards the sky, debating, before— )
Then where?
is it bad I didn't notice.......
[A rhetorical question, Marc...
Steven wouldn't want to leave any stragglers who need help behind but this part of town seems relatively empty now, which is for the best. Thirteen and her games - she'll probably put out the fires here once they're of no use to her anyway. At least no one is in danger.]
Seems like we've put out quite a few without realizing it. This is a test and I believe that means we've passed. [He nods to at least one business completely flame-free now, which is a relief.]
I can show you a nearby town if you want to get your bearings and- [he cuts himself off, eying the suit again] -get a change of clothes too, if you need it. You look sharp but not the most convenient in this heat, is it?
HAHA NO I just would've phrased sth slightly different weeps
but marc is paranoid and suspicious enough to agree with the sentiment that coincidences aren't always coincidences, but he knows well enough that he's paranoid and suspicious, knows that even if he might think that, sometimes coincidences really are coincidences.
can he always tell the difference? no. but— )
Are you trying to say you're from the version of Earth where I'm not crazy?
( rhetorical question for a rhetorical question, steven, because he doesn't believe that for a second.
marc looks down at the suit as soon as steven mentions a change of clothes and, for a moment, he just looks surprised. it segues into doubt, and he presses his lips together. in any other instance, it'd come across as petulance but here and now, it's simply disagreement.
yes, he's hot and he's sticky and he's sweaty, but— ) These are my vestments. ( "hey!"
what that doesn't quite portray is the fact that marc — marc's — wardrobe consists almost entirely of the same suit a dozen times. the same jacket, the same pants, the same shoes and the same gloves. the turtlenecks and the cargo pants and the boots have been left in the past, a relic of marc spector that marc tries not to be.
it'd been fine — by a definition of "fine", the kind of definition that only marc uses — until greer had come back into his life and started poking holes in his careful, deliberate presentation of self.
he'd prefer to be hot and sticky and sweaty and uncomfortable than just ("just") marc spector.
instead— ) I need a shower.
it's all good!
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