11870/Sun King Ascendant: False Dawn

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Sun King Ascendant: False Dawn
Date of Scene: 03 July 2022
Location: The Midnight Mission
Synopsis: Viktor Johanssen, the Sun King, wakes up. He tries to apologize for his actions in the past few months, but Moon Knight's having none of it. And as usual, the Scarlet Scarab is the voice of reason.
Cast of Characters: Jonathan Sims, Marc Spector, Layla Abdalla El-Faouly




Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Viktor Johanssen has been in a coma for nearly two weeks now, as Apophis' poison moves through and out of his body. There was a little while where it seemed that he might even die, and it hasn't helped that the actual doctor of the group has disappeared back to Manhattan in a fit of pique. The gifts of Tawaret have kept him alive, but it's been touch-and-go from time to time.

    In the last few days, he's stabilized, enough to not need magical support, though he still looks wan and pale. The sun is going down when he finally begins to stir in whatever bed they've been keeping him in, the first sign a dim light that radiates off his body.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc enters the infirmary where they've been keeping the Sun King. He's been the one doing some of the triage on the man, Frenchie's better, but Frenchie has a family to tend to and needs time off as well. TOday was his own shift. He's in a white suit, the custom outfit of the Mission but doesn't have the white mask on leaving his face visible.

    He checks the IV fluid bag and sets another up, just in case as the man stirs and the light starts to emenate from him. "Oh, finally coming to?" he asks. It's not so much animosity in his voice, but it is a surety of control in the situation: Sun King or no.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla's been the one handling the magical medical, so her visits have been daily. That it coincides with Marc's is a matter of timing. She got distracted with some research and realized that it was past time to check on their patient. Hurrying into the room, she's taking everything in with a sweep of her eyes before moving forward. A white sleeveless top is fitted to her bupper body, tucking into a pair of dark brown loose linen pants with a red scarf used as a belt.

She leaves the talking to Marc for the moment, checking the man's vitals and the course of the poison in his system, trying to determine if he needs an extra boost, or if it's left his system and that's provoked him to finally start to wake.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    The Sun King's vitals seem stable, if not great. The poison's still there, clearly, but whatever natural regeneration being Ra's avatar is affording him seems to be staving off the poison, for now. But it's a thing where the regeneration is happening at the same rate as the poisoning--he'll need to get stronger to fight it off properly, probably.

    There's a groan and then the man blinks his eyes open. For a moment, he looks confused. He's not strapped down or anything, although the IV fluids are cumbersome. He doesn't try to move, though, just says, "I am not a prisoner?"

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc looks down and shrugs. "That depends on whether or not you try to attack any of my people" he replies, watching Layla for a moment. "If you do then we'll make sure you're accomodations are less friendly. But if you play nice... we'll see you're taken care of." He steps over to the other side to check on the IV. It's still secure and sealed.

    "I don't think you're evil... despite your clear inability to read people well." He frowns. "Bushman was a maniac, but a charismatic one. Falling under his sway and promise for a better world makes sense." THen he shakes his head. "But this other guy: Elias Bouchard, Jonah Magnus, or whatever you want to call him... he's worse. He was using you the whole time to give himself a chance at becoming an avatar of Apophis... and you played right into it." His eyes are hard as he looks at the patient. "Do you understand what you've let loose?"

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla glances up from her examination to look towards the man, "You're still weakened from the poison, try not to overdo it just now, hm? Your natural regeneration and the boosts from Taweret are keeping you steady, but you need to rest and gain more strength to properly fight it off." That's all she seems to have to offer to him before rising up and stepping back from him.

Tucking her hands into her pockets, she glances to Marc, then back to the Sun King, stern-faced but not obviously mad or upset. Instead, she seems to be trying to see past him and into ihim, as if she could divine his intent simply by staring at him.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Viktor stares at the ceiling for a long moment, frowning. "I am aware," he says simply.

    After a moment, he struggles a bit to sit up. He makes no move beyond that, but he seems to feel that his pride and station require him to at least be upright while speaking to these people. "I have studied the history of my family since I was a child, and first heard the voice of Amon-Ra. I made the mistake of telling others that I heard that voice, and I have been in and out of mental asylums ever since. I spent my days studying the land of my ancestors in preparation for this moment."

    He frowns at the wall. "Bushman never really believed me. But Bouchard... he was the first who ever did. He got me out of the asylum. He said he had a plan to elevate me to my proper role. Why would I think he wanted to unleash Apophis instead?"

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc scowls at the man. "Because nine times out of ten, when someone promises you riches with the barest of costs they're going to take something from you" he replies. "I was in and out of institutions all my life too. I know what it is to be locked up and held prisoner to your own mind." He narrows his eyes, the pain of his past lingering there. "And I know for a fact that if someone came and said 'I can give you purpose and the world all you have to do is undergo a few procedures and listen to what I say' I would've laughed them in the face. God king or no."

    "This..." he taps his chest, "what we are, It isn't easy. Ever. We're saddled with things that use us as toys as pawns to execute their responsibilities. You most of all should understand that you've got the fucking King riding piggyback." He paces a bit away. "And, what, you think a guy offering you a silver platter with his daughter's blood on it was well adjusted and didn't have any ulterior motives..." He shakes his head again. "You're not -that- dense. No one is -that- dense."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla cants her head to one side and watches Viktor for a long moment, "What was Elias supposed to get out of this, Viktor? Did he ever tell you what was in it for him?" Her voice is quiet and steady, compassionate despite the stern set of her features. Almost gentle, even. Not that she isn't capable of violence, but she tends to temper it when possible.

"And.. what possible purpose did sealing away Khonshu serve to see you named the Avatar of Ra? Or in kidnapping and coercing another Avatar? Did you stop to consider the consequences of your actions, or were you so consumed with -being someone- that you were willing to hurt others to do it?" That deceptively calm and soothing voice asks harder and harder questions, the dichotomy all the more poignant for the edges on those questions.

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Viktor sighs. "He wasn't getting /nothing/ out of it. He... he told me he was going to take the mantle of Moon Knight. Become the Fist of Khonshu. That was why we sealed off Khonshu. You were /supposed/ to die that night, but that damned Archivist..." He shakes his head, sharply. "I /did/ try to warn him, but he wouldn't believe me when I told him the Archivists and the Moon Knight used to work together. He seemed convinced the man wouldn't be an 'issue.'"

    He glares at them both. "I'm not doing this for my own sake. I'm doing it for /his/. For Amon-Ra. He chose me, and when the /pretender/ gave up the crown..." He shakes his head. "Look, I understand, I made a mistake. But you heard Ma'at. I /am/ the avatar of Amon-Ra. And that means that I am the one that has to defeat Apophis." There's a determined, set look in his eyes.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc rounds on the man. He -stares- daggers at him. If this were a good cop, bad cop scenario he would definitely be the bad cop of the pair. "And what you expect us to just -let- you? You've tried to kill me and Jon now and I'm supposed to trust you because it's supposed to be you? Fat fucking chance!" He shakes his head.

    "Ra's avatar you may be, I can't dispute that because he' he gestures to the ceiling and presumably Khonshu, "says so. But you're no King and you sure as hell don't have our respect or trust to be out there helping us." He looks to Layla, hoping for her support and understanding in his reasoning.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"Ah. So you were okay with killing Moon Knight, if it meant you could be king. Good to know that the other Gods and their Avatars have so little meaning or matter to you," Layla gives a short nod before glancing sidelong towards Marc again. She looks back to Viktor and lifts a brow at him, "Did you know that Elias tried to have me captured and killed to draw out Marc? Do you realize that by your own hands, you created your own downfall?" A small smirk twitches her lips, "Because of that, I became an Avatar myself. And my Goddess charged me to protect him." Her thumb hooks towards Marc.

She shakes her head and lets out a sigh, "I'm sure that you're being earnest. But quite frankly, you've fucked things up enough, thanks. I think -we'll- take it from here." Layla nods to Marc, "He's right. You've been complicit in kidnapping and murder to further your own selfish interests. We can't trust you, man."

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Viktor shakes his head. "It's not about what /I/ want, or what /you/ want. It's... Ra defeats Apophis. With the help of Set. Unless you have some way to change that, I /have/ to be involved."

    He frowns, clearly trying to think his way through what he's trying to say. Then he bows his head. "Perhaps you are right. Perhaps I am not a King. And I am... certainly not worthy of your respect. But you are also right that /I/ caused this. My pride caused this. I don't ask you to... to follow me, in this. I ask you to let me help you fix what I broke."

    He finally looks back up at Marc. "Bouchard told me that you were killing innocents. That you were out of harmony with Khonshu. He may have lied--I'm not trying to excuse anything. But that Khonshu took you back immediately proves you are his rightful avatar. I..."

    He makes a noise in the back of his throat, a groan. "I am /sorry/." Well, that was evidently difficult.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc shakes his head. "There's another way" he says and turns, heading for the door. "You can stay here. We'll continue to monitor your situation and provide you medical care but I can't... I can't have you out in the field with us. Not after what you've done." He turns the doorknob and opens it. "We'll keep you posted on our progress... not because you deserve it, but because -he- demands it."

    With that he exits the room and proceeds down the hall back to the main Hall. It's clear something is weighing on his mind, but he's not likely to vocalize it in front of man who brought him to the brink of death and insanity with a single act. Layla can tell when he's afraid and that fear is still in him even now that he's reconnected with the god of the moon.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Watching Marc leave the room, Layla looks back to Viktor. "I don't think you're telling the whole truth. You couldn't be so blind, so naive, to truly believe Elias. You, who's done nothing but research the history of the Egyptian Gods and their Avatars for the whole of your life. You couldn't possibly have though that what Elias was doing was legit. I have a PhD in Archaeology with a specialty towards Egyptian history and mythology, and -I- knew that. Without being in any way otherwise attached to this whole mess. So there's no way you didn't know, somewhere, that what you were doing was wrong." She folds her arms over her chest, "You need to take a long, hard look inside yourself, or when you die, your judgment is going to fast and brutal and you aren't going to like it."

Turning away, she exits the room and quickens her pace to catch up with Marc, reaching out to get a hand on his arm. "Hey. Come on, talk to me. Partners, remember? So deal me in, Mr. Moon." She tries a quick, encouraging smile as she steps around to angle herself towards him. "Something still has you spooked. What's the matter?"

Jonathan Sims has posed:
    Viktor glowers at Marc and then at Layla, and says nothing. Whatever's going on there, whatever it /truly/ is, he's not saying. Not yet anyway.

    When they're both gone, he slumps back against the pillows on the bed and swears under his breath in Russian, then looks up at the ceiling.

    "I hope you're wrong," he murmurs. "Because otherwise, they won't be able to stop Apophis."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc stops as Layla places herself in his path. "This whole thing is... it's wrong" he says looking at the hardwood floor of the hall. "And that guy... he managed to single handedly disconnect me from Khonshu. I mean, sure we got him back and my connection is stronger than ever... but I still... something else is still missing" he sighs.

    "I need... we need to do that thing with you and Taweret and Khonshu... to give Steven and Jake the proper place in things. To get them both to understand how we -all- have to be Moon Knight in our own ways." He meets her eyes. "I need it."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla looks up at him, her eyes seeking out his, holding his gaze. Reaching down, she takes his hand, threading their fingers together. "Hey. First? That man in there? Didn't single-handedly do -shit-. Elias masterminded everything and knew exactly what buttons to push on 'that guy' to keep him quiet and complacent. He's complicit, but he's far from capable of doing all that." Squeezing his hand lightly, she watches him carefully.

"And second... I am willing. Taweret is willing. But it's best to be done at the full moon, when all of you are at your peak. I'll clear my calendar for the 13th and we'll give you three as much time as we can to get things settled." Reaching up with her free hand, Layla touches his cheek and smiles faintly, "You'll have to put your life in my hands again. Making a habit of it?" Trying to lighten the mood with a touch of teasing.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc smiles a bit. "Maybe. I trust you. I do..." he nods. "And I believe you. I just needed to catch my breath. I remember what it felt like to have my heart ripped out and then put back in. It wasn't... it wasn't pleasant." He adds quickly. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to Jon. Just... not my finest hour and I would rather not have to go through it again."

    He matches her gaze. "How about we give Frenchie a call and then we can go out to get some dinner. Okay?" he asks. "There's a good cafe a few blocks up the road. I think you'll like it." He smiles then, his own spirits eased by her words if not completely dismissed.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla gives a small nod, managing to look pleased and solemn all at once. She lets her hand fall to rest against his chest, over his heart, "Yes, well, now they have to get through me first. So your heart will be staying right where it's at." patting her fingertips lightly over his chest before dropping the hand away completely. "You know, if he were a little more remorseful, I could actually feel a smidgen of pity for his situation."

Her face lights up in a smile, "Sounds like the best thing I've heard all day." She leans up and presses a kiss to his cheek, "I'll go wash up while you make the call, meet you topside in five?"