12258/Many Moons, Many Faces

Many Moons, Many Faces
Date of Scene:	02 August 2022
Location:	Dormitory 03 - The Midnight Mission
Synopsis:	Marc and Layla sit down as Marc lets his alters meet their future partner in vigilantism. The meetings while brief prove beneficial to all parties involved.
Cast of Characters:	Layla Abdalla El-Faouly, Marc Spector

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Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Following Marc through the main hall, past the statues, and back into his office and quarters, Layla is still riding the high of accomplishing a fairly complex and difficult ritual. She's smiling and happy to putter around the office and into the kitchenette area, getting the kettle started as she picks out some tea and starts making up the tray. "Now, you know I'm not one to pry, so if there's any part of what went on that you aren't comfortable talking about, you just say so."

Looking up at him, Layla offers a quick smile and sets out the honey on the tray before moving to find somewhere she can sit until the kettle whistles her back up. Settling in, she slouches comfortably and fishes around before coming up with the bag of marshmallows, setting it between them before plucking one up to toss into her mouth. She's still in her ritual armor, though the wings have been tucked away for easier movement, but she seems perfectly comfortable in the outfit, fingers lacing together over her stomach as she watches him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc seems... lighter somehow. More in tune with himself that he's been in... forever. For at least as long as he can remember. "Well..." he chuckles as he watches her. "How much did you see? I mean, it was me and Steven and Jake down there. With Khonshu watching. I imagine Taweret could see it all as well... but... did... you see all of it too?" he asks.

    There's a touch of hesitancy in him at that. A lot of what was shown is private and more than Layla knew of him even when they were first together. For her to see the creation points for both Steven and Jake... it is a level of intimate trust that no one else had ever had.

    And Marc isn't sure how he feels about it. Nervous? Embarrassed? Relieved? The emotions war with each other for supremacy in his head.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla watches him, the expressions and tics that cross his face. "I didn't see any of it. Taweret could have seen, she could have let me see... but she's far too humane to breach someone's privacy like that without invitation. So she didn't intrude, just kept an ear out for if you needed help. And I didn't see or hear anything at all." She quirks a bit of a grin, "She loves to gossip, but spying on someone is a whole other matter."

Letting out a slow breath, she leans forward, reaching out to touch his hand, slipping hers into his and giving a small squeeze. "I mean it, though. You only say what you're comfortable saying. And that goes for all three of you." Her lips twitch up into a smile briefly.

The kettle starts to whistle and Layla jumps to her feet, moving back into the kitchenette to pull the kettle and carry everything back out into the office. Setting the tray down, she fixes them both a cup, already knowing how Marc likes his tea, making sure he gets exactly that as she settles back in. "You're my husband, you're my partner. I /want/ to know about your life, Marc, including who you share it with. But I also respect that Steven and Jake are their own people and may not be ready to be talked about just yet."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc relaxes a bit as Layla reveals that what happened in the corridors of the phantom psych-ward were his alone to keep and disperse at -his- leisure. He takes the tea and sips at it gently. "Well... for one, they want to meet you. But we'll get to that. First you need to know a few things about where they came from."

    He lays it out. The death of his younger brother. His own remorse for his part in it. His mother's descent into madness and alcoholism. And his childhood suffering at her hands. His tone is clinical and detatched, but it's clear this is out of necessity rather than any sense of machismo. He has to be apart from it otherwise he won't be able to tell the tale.

    "I was always enamored with Captain America. I had all the little dime comics of his exploits they put out. I mean, I know he's a Catholic but... there were parts of his life that resonated with a young Jewish boy like me. I even had a poster of him on the door of my bedroom."

    He chuckles. "I never put it together. Even after all this time. Mom would come in with the belt... I'd look at the poster on the door and just sort of... slip away. The poster had his full name on it. Captain Steven Grant Rogers." He lets that sink in for Layla and looks to her over the rim of his teacup.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"That's nice, I'd like to meet them too." Layla offers a slight smile towards him as she leans back in the chair, blowing away the steam from her cup of tea. Lifting the cup for a sip, she gives a nod and settles in to listen to what Marc needs to say. Crossing her legs, she makes herself comfortable and looks to her husband.

The tale is not a pleasant one and he can see the sympathy she has for the child he was. Not that she pities him, never that. There's just the sorrow of a child being mistreated. Still, she smiles when he recounts being enamored with Captain America and how despite their clear differences, he really identified with the superhero.

She catches on faster, likely because it wasn't her childhood and she has no reason to /not/ connect the dots. "Steven Grant... someone to protect you from the bleakness of reality. Just like Steve Rogers protects the innocent, Steven Grant protected you." She smiles and murmurs, "Seems like I owe him a thank you, then. Both of them, really."

Marc Spector has posed:
    "I don't know if giving Captain America a belated thank you for the traumatized mind of a child nearly 30 years later is something we need to worry him with" Marc replies. "But... I won't stop you. Not like they don't have a file on me already. The Avengers think I'm a little too unpredictable for their operations. Which... I have to say they might be right. Even even moreso now..." he says sipping more of his tea.

    He sets the cup down. "But that's not where it stopped." He continues, recalling how his mother passed away from her addiction; he refuses to acknowledge her suicide as anything else. He was thirteen. His father, unable to cope with the difficulty of raising a child with Marc's particular issues--DID was in its earliest understanding and acceptance at this time--saw fit to have his son committed.

    Putnam Psychiatric Facility came with its own slew of issues. And he comes to the tale of that day in the cafeteria where instead of being made into someone's doormat he let go and jake Lockely took over. Jake Lockley the violent hound who lashed out in focused anger against those who might try to force Marc into things he had no desire to engage in. Jake Lockley who wasn't afraid to do what was necessary to survive. Jake Lockley who thrived in violence and danger.

    "It's funny" he says. "It had been me and Steven for so long that when Jake showed up... neither of us really understood it and we sort of buried the scenario away. We thought he first showed up during our time in the army. But instead it was... years earlier than that."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"Ahhhhhhhh, wrong Steven. I was saying I owe Steven and Jake a thank you," Layla offers a quick smile towards him and a small chuckle. She sips on her tea and reaches for another marshmallow, popping it into her mouth to chew on. "Which is strange, considering the people they /do/ have on the team." Shaking her head lightly, she lets out a small sigh, "But, their loss is my gain, and /I/ am absolutely selfish enough to not disabuse them of that notion."

Setting her own cup aside for the moment, she shifts forward in her seat, resting her arms on her knees, fingers tangling together as she watches him. Her brows knit together as he recounts more of his painful past, that sympathy shining in dark eyes once more. Her heart aches for the teenaged Marc that was sent away from his remaining family to be alone in a bad place.

Blowing out a breath after he speaks of Jake's emergence in the psychiatric facility, Layla shakes her head and looks up at him, "I can see why you didn't want to tell me any of this earlier. It's... heavy stuff." She offers a small but sincere smile towards him, "But I am glad that you felt you could now."

Nodding, Layla smiles faintly, "The human mind is a powerful, strange, mysterious thing. We can trick ourselves into so much..." Reaching forward, she pats his hand lightly, then settles back, "Are you feeling better about the three of you now? Do you.. do all three of you agree? Feel heard?"

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc nods. "Actually... more heard now than we had before. It was... surprising. I hadn't thought of Steven and Jake as those sorts to don suits... but... they wanted it as much as I do. Needed it." He smiles. "Leave it to Khonshu to snatch up three avatars instead of just the one, greedy owl." He chuckles and picks up his tea.

    He takes a sip and sets it back down. "And... they should meet you. Just to understand who they are working with when we go out. Mr. Knight and Scarlet Scarab are going to be allies and partners out there even if Steven Grant and Layla El-Faouly are simply friends."

    He takes a breath, a sign of nerves and then asks. "Who do you want to meet first?"

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla gives a small nod and smiles at him, "Good. That's really good. I know Taweret had been fretting about the three of you and how that would work out. And I know /you/ had been feeling like... like you didn't have a voice of your own. Or like it was being buried, or stifled." She reaches for her tea, lifting the cup to get a sip, laughing softly. "Oh believe me, Taweret is already pallning how she's going to tease him about that."

She gives a nod, having been wondering if or when she would meet them. But the time has come, and Layla is certainly ready for it. But first... "What, I'm not his type?" Layla can't keep from teasing Marc, just a tiny bit.

Her cup is set aside once more at the breath he takes and she leans forward out of her chair to kiss him, firmly but briefly. Setting back, she smiles, "It's going to be okay. I'll see you in a minute. Let's start with Steven, since he's known you longest."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Marc is about to object to her teasing but then she's kissing him. He accepts and returns the kiss with his own level of eagerness but it's cut short before he can get too into it. Swallowing he chuckles. "I guess I walked into that one, huh?" he says before moving on and nodding to her request. "It's going to be... I don't know what it looks like when we shift and it might be a little odd, since this is the first time we've done it consciously so... bear with us."

    He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and conjures the image of Steven in his head. Steven looks similar to him, but not quite the same. Even with the realization inside that they look identical physically, there are subtle changes in the details that make Steven enough of a different person that even Marc doesn't notice the similarites.

    He calls out to the man in the confines of his mind and finds him right there, just below the surface. He releases his own hold over the body and just gives up control. Outwardly, Marc's eyes roll back and flutter as his body shifts the reigns.

    It's only a moment before he goes limp again and jerks with a start. "Oh... that's... rather disorienting" comes a voice that is distinctly different from Marc's own. There is a sort of New England cadence to it: businesslike, crisp, and reservered. "Hello" he says, clearing his throat and offering out a hand to the woman nearby. "I'm Steven Grant. How do you do?"

    It may be surprising, or disorienting to Layla to see a man who looks identical to her husband speaking to her as if she were a stranger he is just meeting. But the voice is -quite- different. One could be forgiven for thinking the ex-CIA operative were putting on airs.

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla winks at him, "You did, but it's one of the things I love about you." Settling back, she gives a small nod and smiles faintly, "It's a first for me, too, so I guess we'll all just stumble our way thorugh it best we can." She doesn't seem to be in any hurry, sipping on her tea and giving him whatever time he needs.

Watching it is interesting in and of itself. It's like watching someone have a minor seizure, but without the obvious implications to his health. Still, there's a few moments where she looks ready to lean forward and steady him if he starts to tilt. Then he's jerking upright again and she sits up, curiosity and interest gleaming in those dark eyes.

It LOOKS like Marc still, but... it isn't Marc. He holds himself differently, sits differently, his posture has changed, his voice. Even the timbre and tone of it has shifted. If she didn't know better, she would swear he was faking it but... she knows better.

Smiling, she reaches out to take his hand, giving a firm but brief shake, "Layla Abdalla El-Faouly. I'd like to think I'm doing well, all things considered. Would you like some tea?" She motions to the two extra cups upside down on the tray. "I know how Marc likes his, but if you'll tell me how you like yours, I'm happy to pour."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Steven smiles at Layla as she accepts the handshake. At the offer of tea he brightens. "Oh, certainly. Hmm. Three sugar, and a light splash of cream. I like it darker than he does. Different tastes for different people." As she prepares the tea he lifts a hand and makes a slow fist, peering at it with a curious stare. "Fascinating..." he says softly. "I imagine this is what Captain America felt like shortly after receiving the serum that made him what he is."

    He drops his hand and watches her for a moment. "I imagine you have serveral questions? I mean, outside of what is regularly known via my publicist and tabloids." He rolls his eyes. "I swear, that is the hardest thing to manage. I am now infinitely more aware of why Stark went public with who he is instead of trying to keep it secret."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"I expected as much. I'm not even certain that Jake will take tea at all, but I'll offer it nonetheless." Layla flashes a quick grin towards Steven as she prepares his tea as asked. Handing the cup over to him, she settles back into her chair and retrieves her own cup. Freshening it with some new tea, she doctors it up how she likes and smiles across at him. "I'm not even certain where to begin, honestly. I know how you came to be, but I know nothing about you. Or, well, I know of you academically, from what I catch on the society side. But I'd like to know about /you/."

She motions towards him with one hand, "What are your interests, your preferences. Tell me what you would do if you had a day all to yourself and could do anything at all." Layla smiles across at him, "And if you have any questions, please, don't hesitate to ask. This should be a conversation, not an interrogation."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Steven takes his tea and sips it for a moment. Finding it satisfactory. "Well... I am above all else, a businessman. But if you've kept up with society, you know that already. Outside of my business ventures. I'm something of a historian. The sculptures out there, Ma'at, Khonshu, Taweret, all designed and commisioned by me. Marc deserved a level of authenticity and I knew how to provide it."

    He sips more tea and then sets the cup down. "I like history. Ancient, modern, east, west," he shakes his head. "It doesn't matter. If it's old and has a story I love it." He chuckles. "I suppose if it weren't for my business accumen I'd have the makings of an archeologist in me."

    He considers her question a bit more fully, his expression turning contemplative. "I suppose if I was given a day, free from all other troubles. I'd go and visit some sites that I haven't had the opportunity to see. I fund digs... you see, my own way of having a hand in the archeological field... or as much as I can given..." He gestures to his head. "But I don't get a chance to see the fruits of such investments often. So... if I could go and see them, I'd... that'd be nice."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Nodding, Layla smiles briefly behind her cup as she sips from it, setting it aside after a moment and folding her hands over her stomach. Listening to him, watching him for long moments as he speaks. She can't help but start to chuckle after a minute or two, and her sense of amusement only seems to grow as he continues. By the end of it, Layla is all but grinning at him.

"You know, I often wondered how it was the Marc focused in on me. Why he fell for me. I mean... international man of mystery that he is... and he goes for an archaeologist like me. I think I get it now." Layla smiles across at Steven and dips her head, "Well, if you ever want to send me to one of your digsites to run it, at least you can guarantee that you'll end up there. Marc wouldn't leave me out there for months on end without stopping out to see me. And where he goes, you go. So you could very well go to a brand new dig site, even take part in it if you wanted."

Reaching for her cup, she lifts it to sip from and flashes a quick grin at him, "We can talk history any time you want. My speciality might be Egypt but that doesn't mean I've neglected the rest of the world. I can even show you some artifacts that I've been cataloguing and pricing while we're between digs."

Marc Spector has posed:
    Steven grins at Layla as well. "That'd be lovely. And yes... don't think that the similarity between myself and you is lost on me any either. While our areas of work differ, our interests outside of my business endeavors are quite similar."

    He picks up his tea and toasts her casually. "I think I might take you up on that offer... if that is what it was? It's been some time since I've had a chance to actually fund a site. If you have any in mind for the future, I'd be more than willing to grant funding." He crosses his legs and smirks. "Especially with such a charming offer from the lead scientist." He chuckles to himself mostly. "Marc thinks I'm flirting with you, which I assure you I am not. But it's fun to tease him all the same."

    He sighs. "As much as I would love to discuss the intricacies of future projects, I do think we should move on. Jake is... something of a handful, especially when it comes to first encounters. I am the more mild mannered of the pair of us. Frankly of the three of us, if I do say so myself. Which I do. But we will definitely talk more later. I assure you."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"Oh good, it isn't just me. But I can't say I'm displeased by the similarities. It's nice to be able to 'talk shop' sometimes," Layla lifts her own cup in toast right back at him, a please smile gracing her lips. She sips from her cup and gives a nod towards him, "Oh that was a one hundred percent genuine offer. I love my work, and I would love to get back in the field."

Shifting slightly, she takes another sip and grins, "Oh there's a few sites I can think of. One of the most fun parts about being Taweret's Avatar is all the gossip I get on past royalty, leaders, and sites of great historical drama. So I have inside leads on a few places that won't disturb any lingering curses, but that have yet to be discovered."

Laughing at the idea of the flirtation, she gives a shake of her head, "Marc, as if! I married /you/, but Steven is going to be a very good friend, I can tell already." She flashes a grin towards Steven, then gives a nod, "I understand. Thank you for meeting me, Steven. I'll look forward to talking with you again soon. I'll prepare some potential sites and we can go over which one sounds most interesting." Reaching forward, she offers her hand to him once more, smiling.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Steven's shake this time is much more approachable and friendly. "Absolutely. Looking forward to it. Be seeing you, Dr. El-Faouly." He settles back and his eyes roll back once more, again fluttering as he reaches into the recesses of his mind to find Jake. He slumps forward and then a hand reaches up to push back the hair from his face.

    Jake's posture is more stiff; he's like a condenced spring. "So your Marc's gal, eh?" he says, the Chicago accent thick in his word. "I can say he's got good taste at the very least." He glances as if he heard something over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. I know." He offers out his hand. "Jake Lockley" he offers in greeting.

    "Cabbie by day, vigilante enforcer by night" he smirks wryly. "Though I guess now I have a way to hide my face when I do it and a monicker to be known by. Reputation goes a long way."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Layla is still smiling when Jake makes his appearance, sipping her tea and watching him from over the rim of her cup. She chuckles lightly and gives a nod, "That would be me." She sets the cup aside and reaches out to take his hand, giving him the same handshake she gave to STeven, firm but brief. "Let me guess... off limits? Play nice?" She chuckles, "This is a little surreal, but terribly amusing."

Straightening up, she smiles towards Jake, "Layla Abdalla El-Faouly... but you know that already. We've nearly crossed paths a few times. Run in a few of the same circles. Different reasons but... the people are the same." Layla chuckles, nodding, "It's something to get used to, being an Avatar, but I have a feeling you'll do fine."

She cants her head towards him and offers, "And we might be able to help one another on occasion. I won't pretend to be a violent person, but I've seen more than my fair share, up close and personal. I don't flinch at doing what needs to be done."

Marc Spector has posed:
    "That's the gist of it, yeah" Jake says with a nod. "I heard your name here and there in the black market circles, yeah. I didn't do a lot of socializing though with that crew. Not my style, I'm more a one on one sort. But I also don't believe in coincidences so... probably had a lot to do with Marc being cagey."

    He smirks at her comment about not being a viloent person. "Well, that makes one of us. You won't have to pretend to be nonviolent. I've got enough violence to cover both of us." He nods though. "As long as you're focused on the mission, I don't think we'll have problems working together."

    He looks her up and down and then scowls. "I'm not checking her out the way you think. I'm getting a feel for what might work between us" he muses to himself. "Fuck your husband is a pain in the ass. I've seen how you move and have some ideas on how best we can handle things. But putting things on paper versus putting it into practice are two different things."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
"Oh I won't be pretending anything. I won't claim that I /enjoy/ hurting people," Layla lifts a shrug and sips from her tea, "but I'm a woman in a male-dominated field, and further, a very dangerous and precarious field at that. Many people think there's not much left to discover. They don't know how wrong they are, and I look forward to showing them. But I also believe that the treasures of a people belong with their people. So I have a tendency to make enemies of powerful and dangerous people on top of everything." She offers a tight, quick smile, "I'm not violent by nature, but I won't hesitate to do what I have to do to protect myself and others."

She sips from her cup again, then lets out a laugh and grins, "He is, but in the best of ways. He's never cared for anyone flirting with me. In retrospect, it may be in part because I'm the first person he didn't have to.. share... with anyone else. When it's us, it's just us." Layla gives a nod, "I haven't seen you in action yet, but I can adapt quickly. I think it would help if I got to see you, all of you, in action, at some point. Then I could best gauge how to support and work into how each of you operates."

Marc Spector has posed:
    "That's the next plan then isn't it?" Jake says. "I think we're all going to need to get used to working out our own special cases. The bird-man..." he jerks. "What? That's what he is..." he rolls his head. "Fine. -Khonshu- gave us all abilities particular to our own areas of expertise. Flight for Marc, the Third Eye for Stevie, and adaptive camoflauge for me. How we put those to use out there... is going to be interesting. Not tom ention if we can work in tandem on the fly."

    He chuckles. "Yeah. Back to basics, for all three of us I guess, even Marc." He sits back and shrugs. "I should probably let you and him get back to it then. He's pacing like a fuckin' leopard in here." He gestures to his temple. "It was good to meet you directly for once. I'll be seeing you around."

    Without waiting for a reply from the woman his eyes roll back and flutter before he jerks and Marc's inflection and tone come out. "Ugh... that's... being aware of that is disorienting" he says, looking at her. His expression is apprehensive. "So... you're sure you're okay with all this? I mean... your husband is certifiably crazy, and you don't have to be okay with that. I'd understand if you weren't. It's a lot for -me- and live it."

Layla Abdalla El-Faouly has posed:
Nodding, Layla smiles across at Jake, then fails to quite cover the snorted laughter at calling Khonshu 'bird-man'. Clearing her throat, she looks back to Jake and nods, "Sounds about right. I know I got flight, healing, and some more, ah.. mystical aspects from Taweret that I haven't fully dipped into yet. Sort of like what we did for the three of you, but there's more to it. I just have to... well, I have to talk to Taweret, and then have to actually do it."

She snickers lightly at the idea of Marc pacing inside his own head and nods, "It was nice to m-... ohp, he's gone." Chuckling still when Marc comes back, she grins, "And I got to learn just how possessive my husband is. I am both amused and flattered that you think they would both be attracted to me."

The amusement fades at his question, though the smile remains. Layla rises up from her seat and moves over to sit on the arm of Marc's chair, slipping an arm around his shoulders and leaning in to murmur, "I won't claim that it will be easy. Or that I won't get frustrated or upset at times. I have no idea how things will work if Steven or Jake find someone they /are/ interested in. But certifiable or not, you're my husband and I love you. I didn't just spend these last years hunting you down, then doing that ritual to help you find peace, just to leave you."

Pulling back just enough to catch his eyes, Layla rests her forehead against his, "Better or worse, in sickness or health... you're stuck with me til you decide otherwise."