8556/Making House Calls

Making House Calls
Date of Scene:	05 November 2021
Location:	Seaside Victorian House
Synopsis:	Morrigan calls Mister Knight for a chat at an ungodly hour while she licks her wounds.
Cast of Characters:	Morrigan MacIntyre, Marc Spector

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Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan had made some impulsive decisions that last 48 hours. Texting Mister Knight was probably one of them. She wasn't even sure what he could help with at the moment, but she'd reached out to talk. Or at least have someone laugh at her for being such a dumb ass.

She's sitting on the stairs that lead up to the second floor, dressed in black lounge pants and a white t-shirt that looks like it's definitely not hers. Her arms are wrapped in medical gauze, because doctors were weird and doctored themselves sometimes.

She's dangling a stuffed mouse in front of a gigantic black cat that is looking at her like he's bored, "Please don't attack our guest." she tells the cat.

Marc Spector has posed:
    There is no sound to precede the knock on the door. It is a measured and precise thing. Rap. Rap. Rap. Neither too fast or too slow. The cadence is deliberate and equal in force of knock as well as pause between. Almost mechanical in nature.

    Mr. Knight is dressed as he always is. White suit, shirt (with crescent cufflinks), tie, gloves, shoes and mask. There is an addition this time. A small amulet of a crescent moon, inlaid with moonstone rests at the midpoint of his chest along the tie, keeping the slip of his silk tie in place it would seem.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan was used to hearing footsteps before knocks. So she jumps just a little before she realizes that it's probably just the person that she texted. She drops the mouse toy in front of Occam and rises from the step that she was sitting on, she wasn't that far from the door thankfully.

The door is opened and Morrigan looks to Mister Knight, "I was going to text like a chicken at the last minute and tell you not to come." she admits as she steps back, opening the door for him to enter. She looks rough. Maybe it's all the gauze or maybe lack of sleep, who knew really.

Occam trills out when some new is allowed to enter the home. "That's Occam." she points to the cat, not like he's easy for folks to miss.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mister Knight starts at the sight of the massive cat. "What a large specimen of feline prowess" he says with a smile in his tone.

    Then his gaze shifts to Morrigan. "I... feel rather foolish saying this, but you look terrible" he says. "Perhaps I can inquire as to the nature of your injuries within?" he asks. The tug on the area above his left eye might indicate that he's arching a brow at the woman. "And as to why you sought out my company in this time of obvious need as opposed to someone else?" He holds up a hand. "Not that I mind, of course. I did offer my undivided presence to you should you ever request it."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"He's a Maine Coon, I promise he won't claw anything. Unless you happen to walk by his favorite ambush point in the house." Morrigan muses as she closes the door. She gives a laugh as he tells her that she looks horrible, "Don't feel foolish. I feel terrible as well." she admits to him as she turns back to look to him.

"I think my parents are getting a little old for me to show up covered in caustic blood and needing to lick my wounds so they were right out." she admits. "I think my other contact is off on some classified business." she tells him. "I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" she asks him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight shakes his head. "Of course not" he replies. "I would've said so if you had." He frowns. "Caustic blood? That sounds like it carries quite a tale." He pauses and looks further in. "Perhaps we should sit? Anything more about it that you can tell me? I am nothing if not discreet."

    He didn't miss the tidbit about classified business and while he wasn't aware at the doctor was part of anything, that she knew of some meant that something previleged was clearly afoot.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"Yeah...I hugged something that I shouldn't have." Morrigan frowns softly. "And I sadly can't share the tale." she sighs as she looks to where to go. "Living Room or Kitchen? The kitchen has seating and a nice view of the ocean. Plus I can make tea or something warm to drink." she offers. Something that doesn't involve opening a vein.

"I don't usually reach out to people. I usually just suck it up and deal while I heal. I don't know what's different this time." she tells him after a moment of silence.

Marc Spector has posed:
    "Kitchen is fine" Mr. Knight replies, gesturing for her to lead the way. He follows along if she does. "Perhaps you realize that my offer of help comes without strinks attached. I am simply an ally looking for like minded individuals and I feel that you fit that idea rather well."

    He's examining the decor of the house. "I understand your heritage gives you certain advantages, but... are you able to employ such advantages under the influence of whatever allows you to control your sanguine urges?" he asks idly. There is no sense of accusation or hidden meaning behind. He is simply, curious from his tone.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan heads down the hall to the kitchen and honestly it's the most lived in room given the owner. "I'm just a bit old and jaded at this point in my life." the redhead muses as she moves around the island to find a seat at the counter. "What is the idea, exactly?" she asks him. "Is it the protecting night walking folks?" she asks him.

"And are you asking can I use magic while I'm on my serum?" she asks him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight moves to sit opposite of the woman. "I am asking can you heal faster than normal without accessing your vampiric nature, yes" he asks. "I am just curious just how much of your blood is influenced by that Hunger, and how much of what you can do is outside of it."

    He watches her for a moment. "The idea is partially that. It is also partly education. Understanding one's limits and accepting them. It's realizing that as a part of the world of night, there are multiple paths to take. Some lead to a higher purpose, like my own with my relationship to Khonshu. Others lead to cultivation of lesser powers, instilling the necessity for control in those who need such things. And others..." he paues. "Lead to an abandonment of the light and only further the cause of entropy."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan shakes her head, "No, I didn't get the vampiric healing. None of the benefits." she frowns to that. "And I can't heal myself, but oh well." she shrugs.

Morrigan looks to him though, "You want help teaching other...creatures of the night about what limits and things are? I mean, I'm sure I can help." she states. "Or make pamphlets or something." she tells him. "I don't really like people knowing about my being a half vampire. I'm sure they'd try to get me fired from my job and honestly...the school keeps me going." she states with a genuine smile.

Marc Spector has posed:
    "Then perhaps, if you join me at the Mission, from time to time, you adopt a persona much as I have?" Mr. Knight says, gesturing to himself. "If you agree to help me that is." He frowns. "I wish that my powers could aid you, however the healing of the Traveller only applies to myself and not others." The tilt of his head is almost sympathetic.

    "So this... condition. Acidic burns are going to simply linger?" he asks. "Will that not result in questions being asked by staff and students of your school?" he asks. "Were it last week, you could easily pass it off as a sort of mummification costume... but now... last I checked the Thanksgiving myth does not include mummies" he chuckles.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan looks to him, a curious brow quirking up as she does, "A persona?" she seems curious at that. "I was guessing that you didn't run around as Mister Knight all the time...but wasn't going to pry." she admits. "And I'm not sure what sort of persona I could pull off." she adds with a soft frown. "It's hard to not just be me, even if there are glaring flaws." she states. Then she shakes her head softly, "There are others that could probably use that healing more than I could. I did something stupid, I'll live with it." she muses.

"They'll heal regularly." she nods. "And it's not the first time I've had injuries and had to go to work. Most of the kids know that Doctor MacIntyre moonlights as a crime fighter of sorts." she sighs softly. "And no, it doesn't...but it would be a lot cooler if it did?" she offers.

"Would you like a drink?" she asks.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight gives her a curious tilt of his head. "There are many advantages to wearing a mask, more than simply hiding one's face. And I am sure that there are plenty of avenues we could go should you reconsider. I am something of a veteran at the process myself."

    At her explaination of other injuries he nods. "That is fair and I agree. It would make the myth a great deal more interesting in my opinion."

    At her question he considers for a moment and then shrugs. "Why not? Especially if it would set you more at ease with my presence." Oh, he can tell that there is apprehension and stiffness that goes beyond the physical in the woman.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan seems to be rather intrigued by the idea of a persona, "I more meant...I'm painfully Irish. What would I be doing in an Egyptian temple of sorts?" she looks a bit bemused, but not disinterested. "When the gods were killing each other we saw little of the pantheon in general. Anubis was not getting into things, which was good." she admits.

There is another look given to him before she slides off the stool to get some glasses, "You think that I have a problem with your presence?" she asks him. "I'm...just not sure how to act around adults most days." she chuckles. "Is whiskey alright? I hope it is." she murmurs as she gets a bottle from the counter and moves to sit back down.

Marc Spector has posed:
    "If you want full disclosure," Mr. Knight replies. "I am Jewish by heritage and only half Egyptian. What am I doing in a temple dedicated to a god who hasn't been worshipped properly for nearly 2.5 millenia?" He tilts his head again. "There are a number of things one can do in service to the Moon. It covers the earth, it doesn't entirely need to be conformed tot he trappings of Khonshu, or Luna, or Artemis, or Bast, or in your case, Cerridwen. They are all the same thing just with differing faces." At the mention of Anubus he nods. "The balancer does not often involve himself in sqaubbles such as that. He seeks balance, that one would try to claim the power of all... is beyond his understanding."

    As she moves to get the drink and glasses he makes a soft 'Ah' sound. "I see. So it is not so much me, as it is that I am a peer. That is fair." He chuckles as she mentions whiskey. "I would expect nothing less of you." He gestures for her to pour and watches her intently as she does.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan pours the glasses after giving him a squinted look, "Is that because I'm Irish?" she teases him gently. She slides his glass over and then retakes her seat, sipping it gently as she watches him. "Do you need a straw?" she asks him with an absolutely innocent look.

But oh yes, it was a joke.

"Honestly I just don't try to get too attached to people, leaves less expectation and if I don't build up feelings or things then I don't get hurt as much. The teens are different, they are like my wards and I care for them, but at the end of the day I'm not their parent. They can go home and not have to deal with me." she shrugs.

"I would like to know more about the things you do though, and if I can help fit a niche or certain role then I'd be happy to in my down time and things. Not like I have much of a personal life." she muses.

Marc Spector has posed:

    Mr. Knight laughes. "No. I will be fine" he says, and then he slowly rolls up the mask over his chin mouth and nose, exposing a strong jawline with a peppering of stubble over it. His nose is apparently where his North African/Middle Eastern side came through in him. His skin is vaguely olive toned but there is a paleness that speaks of a lack of sun exposure. He picks up the glass and sips it. "And yes, that is because you are Irish."

    "I can understand your position, even if I do not agree with it" he says taking another sip. "I believe that to make a person human one must make those connections with their peers. Pain is a risk, as with all things, but living is working *through* that pain and coming out stronger for it."

    He takes another sip, holding the whiskey in his mouth just long enough for the burn to linger before swallowing it. "You wish to know what the Midnight Mission is for? I can tell you. It is a temple dedicated to my patron, obviously. But beyond that it is a safe haven for all creatures of the night who require such a place. As long as they understand that they must supress their baser desires and properly work toward an alternative method of existence while under His protection. Should they fail in that regard..." he shrugs. "Moon Knight will not hesitate in giving them a swift end."

    He takes another sip and continues. "In addition to such things, it is becoming a Headquarters of sorts. I have started bring others like myself and others who share my own ideologies to fight against the darkness enveloping the world. We will come together and create a force against that entropic descent. I am thinking the name Heliopolitans. But it won't be solely for those of Egyptian pursuasion. We will fight against the scourge who threatens the streets of any city and we will take back what we can from the grasp of terror. And bring a peaceful home to those we can."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan seems to lighten a bit when she makes him laugh, "I'm not really as stuck up as people might think I am. Just takes a bit to get to relax." she admits. When he lifts the mask to drink there is a curiousness in her gaze as she watches. "I figured you'd take a shot at my being Irish." she chuckles to that. Didn't bother her too much it seemed. "I'm half Irish, my fathers side is Romanian. Also a bit stereotypical with the vampire thing." she rolls her eyes at that.

Then she settles in to listen to him speak on his group and there's a bit of a smile, "There is a lot of darkness out there to fight, Mister Knight. I'm glad that you have backup when you need it. No one should be alone in that regard." she tells him.

"If you are in need of a Doctor I would be happy to assist. While I cannot heal myself I can heal others pretty handily...it's how I got the white in my hair." she muses.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight nods. "That is so curious to me" he replies, taking another sip. "Your powers are so extraordinary and yet you are unable to effect yourself with them." He tilts his head, his expression somber. "My sympathies go out to you, truly." He finishes off the glass of whiskey and nods. "I would accept your assistance with my and my allies activities. Know that, if you reconsider my offer for a persona to hide who you are and thus take a more direct route... I will assist in that endeavor as well."

    He smiles then. "I hope that, in the right circumstances I can help you do that too." He adds, for clarification, "Relax, that is. You don't need to fret over being hurt so much. We all go through great deals of pain, the secret to overcoming them... is to not isolate yourself when the pain comes. Find those you can call friends, family, more. Our trek together is very new, but perhaps, in time, you will look to me as one or all of those."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a bit of a look to him, "I'm sure I could work on healing magics, but...not in this current state." she admits to that. She looks to her glass, "No sympathies are needed, I'd really just like to have some normalcy for once." she states to him. Then she looks back to him, "What sort of persona would you pick out for someone like me?" she seems curious to hear his answer.

"I fret a lot of the time, maybe because I have a lot to juggle." she chuckles. "Family is a very weird concept given I'm adopted, but...maybe I can learn before I'm too old." she grins. "So what do you do when weird women aren't calling you in the middle of the night?" she asks him.

"And how do you help people relax?" she adds the question.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight considers the woman for a while. "Hmm. Magic. Calm exterior. The desire for mystery involving your identity?" he nods. "Hecate might be a tall order but you share many similarities with the goddess herself. I believe you could at the very least give adequate homage to her namesake at the very least."

    At her question of what he does in his spare time he considers for a moment. "I read. I manage the day to day running of the Mission, and... not much else I'm afraid. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't have a social life it's just... my friends are those I consider colleagues and going out as I look is..." He snorts softly. "Many people do not understand that hiding my face is as much for their protection as it is for my own. Not that I am hideous. It is... my identity is a dangerous thing to know and keeping people unaware is the safest option for them."

    Her other question is met with a soft smile. "Come to the Mission somtime, and you can find out how." That's not ominous at all.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a bit of a smile, "That is an indeed a tall order, but we'll see about it. Do I need some fancy armor or something?" she asks him. "I mean...magic is cool, but sometimes someone really wants to wear a cape." she admits. Then she squints at him after he tells her what he does day to day, "So you're giving me guff about being alone and not getting out of my shell and you are basically just as much as a homebody as I am." she points out.

"No, I understand hiding your identity. Especially if you are mostly mortal. While you might be highly trained, bullets and a well placed knife or explosives will end things fairly easily." she frowns. "And bad guys tend to go for our loved ones first sadly." she shakes her head.

"Alright, I'll come over sometime." states with a look to him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight chuckles. "Perhaps so. I did not say I don't have close friends, just most of them are those I work with."

    At the mention of bullets and knives he makes a somewhat wistful expression. "Ah... for most, yes that would be a problem. And for those I care about, such might be the case. For me... I... I cannot be permenantly harmed by such things. Even a gunshot to my head will likely only inconvience me for a while. I am sustained by the the power of a god and as such mundane matters like bullets and blades cannot stop my purpose."

    He considers the woman again, taking her in completely with his eyes even if he cannot see her past the counter. "This may seem forward, but what are your measurments?" he asks. "I have a vision that might work for you. If you are comfortable with that," he adds.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a soft smile, "I didn't mean anything like that, Mister Knight." she tells him. "I'm sure with what you do that you've made friends everywhere really. Or well, at least in the circles that we run." she adds. "I worry about my parents and the kids at the school being hurt, but then again we've also went to other countries to eliminate cells that would dare take any of them from us." she frowns to that.

His question makes her laugh though, "I was going to make some scandalous comment about undressing me with your eyes...but I won't." she muses. "I can text you my measurements if you like, I'm a little excited at the prospect of getting my own armor." she states as she steeples her fingers.

"So I'm guessing you have a persona for your more public life as well...but I won't ask at this juncture. More because I'd like to get to know you and stepping all over your immaculate shoes doesn't seem the best way to do that." she admits.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight considers her for a longer moment. "I will do what I can for your protection as well as keeping who you are as secret as I can." He chuckles and then takes a step forward.

    "I will let you in on a secret, because you are being quite considerate. Some could say too cautiously so." He leans forward and his voice drops to a conspiratorial lvel, despite their obvious alone nature. "My public persona has all but faded from the public eyes. I am, by and large, completely Mr. Knight when dealing with others. Funding comes from a private investor who is very discreet with his cash flow and prototypes. And my information of the happenings on the streets is funnelled from informants I have placed in strategic locales around the city proper."

    "Just as you have your school and treat your students as charges," he says, gesturing around the house but truly meaning the entirety of Happy Harbor, "I have the city and specifically Queens as my territory to guard, protect, and patrol. It does not leave much time for a more public persona."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a smile, "My identity is very public to a degree. My vampirism is not and nor is one other thing. I feel like few people need to know that part of me. Maybe when I find someone to settle down with I'll let everyone know everything...but I'm still looking." she muses softly.

When he tells her he'll let her in on a secret there is a bit of an eyebrow quirk and she leans a little across the island, listening to him intently as he speaks. "That is a fair thing, Mister Knight." she states. "Obviously if you ask me a direct question I will answer honestly. So...keep that in mind." she tells him.

"So do you consider yourself more on the vigilante level like the Punisher?" she asks him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    He nods. "To a degree, he and I share many aspects of our lives, yes" Mr. Knight replies. "I am more mystical than he is, and my enemies also tend to fall in that area whereas he deals with more... mundane criminals." He makes a face, his mouth quirking to one side. "But yes. We are both vigilantes in our own rights."

    He decides to test her statement. "You said you are still looking. Does that mean that companionship of an intimate level is not completely lost to you?" he asks, his tone carrying a slightly hopeful air to it.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a nod of her head, "I didn't mean to get too personal on things. I'm familiar with Mister Castle's work and I've also been in the middle of it." she admits. "Vigilantism is something that is necessary at some points in life, especially when the proper authorities are not equipped for it. Maybe I shouldn't call it vigilantism..." she trails off before finishing off her glass.

She wiggles the bottle at him after she picks it up, "Do you want a refill, or is it uncomfortable rolled up?" she asks him quietly.

Her glass is refilled as she listens to him and there's a soft smile that graces her features, "I am not going to give up on finding someone that can tolerate my brand of weird, no. I very much would like to have a relationship and things. Even if it not the easiest and there might be bumps." she states.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight slides his glass forward. "Please" he says. "It's not uncomfortable at all. Occasionally, one doesn't want to breath air filtered through a mesh framework."

r    He watches her refill the glass. "I hope his actions were not harmful to you and yours. I know that he can be... direct when he needs to be. And sometimes when he doesn't." He waves a hand dismissively. "And stop apologizing, you called me here in the middle of the night to talk. I believe that I came should give you a clue as to my own feelings on personal space and comments."

    "If you have a question, simply ask it" he says with a grin. "If it is something I can or will answer, I will do so. Otherwise, I will likely give you a cryptic response that leaves you with more questions. I am told that I have a habit of doing that."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan refills his glass as she listens to him, "So do you shower with it on as well?" she asks with a bit of a straight face, but there is a little tugging at the corner of her lips. "I joke to get the tension out, if I ever upset you just let me know." she tells him. The bottle is settled down and she looks back to him, "Being stuck in the catacombs of Rome with the students was not the best part of our Summer vacation, but we were not stuck for long." she chuckles. "He was taking care of a 'thing'." she admits.

"I mean, you did show up without much of a question so I appreciate that. And whiskey and pain meds are making things more relaxing." she muses.

"Where do you think you'd be if you'd not had your incident that changed you?" she asks him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight laughs, genuinely. "I do make it sound that way, don't I?" he asks. "But I assure you, I do not bathe with the mask on. I do disrobe. Completely." He nods as he hears of the Punisher's involvement with her and her students in Rome. There is a brief flicker of annoyance as he hears of it but he doesn't press the matter and instead settles back with his drink.

    "I've never been asked that question. I suppose it is a more complicated question than you can know" he says, softly, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass with a thoughtful look on his masked face. "I suppose I answer it when a series of questions and answers to you." He looks up and slowly explains his situation.

    "When I was young I learned that a friend of my family, who were imigrants from Czechoslovakia, was actually a practicing Nazi who was liberally murdering Jews in my community" he takes a slow deep breath. "I was targetted and fought back to escape my death. The event traumatized me to the point of clinical insanity."

    "Is that the incident you are speaking of?" he smiles sadly.

    "Or was it when I was institutionalized at 13 by my family because my psychosis had become too bothersome for them to handle?" he looks down at his drink once again, his voice going distant. "The mental health system in the late 90s was... rather inept in it's ability to truly help the patients intered within such institutions. My treatement there was not kind nor helpful."

    He pauses. "Or perhaps, you are asking about when I was publically disgraced before my peers and comrades when I was courtmartialed and discharged from the Corps?" he shakes his head. "Truly not that damaging of an incident to be honest as I was able to find work elsewhere afterwards with ease. I was able to keep fighting, even if the causes were not as honorable."

    Another pause and he sips, letting the burn hit him again before swallowing. "Or perhaps, you are asking about when a man I thought a friend and a mentor shoved a 26 inch blade into my back, kicked me down a desert dune and left me to die bleeding and burnt in the blistering heat? That was when this..." he gestures to his outfit, "truly began. But I am curious, you as a doctor, as a mystic, as a healer, might have a clue as to which incident truly changed me in the way you are asking."

    For all the seriousness of his conversation, his expression is genuinely amused. It's clear that he's made peace at least with the situation that led him to where he is, but making peace and being well with the consequences are not always the same thing.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's face falls, given the alcohol and feeling relaxed in the presence of the man she wasn't expecting such a heavy story. But there it was. She winces at the variety of things and there's a moment taken to rub her hand across her face as she feels tears well up, "I shove my foot in my mouth with some questions." she whispers to him. Hopefully he wouldn't notice.

She pushes her chair back and lets her bare feet touch the floor as she moves around to pull out the chair next to his and drops down into the seat as she listens.

"I'm not a psychologist, but I am guessing that all of those situations played a part in molding the man you are today." she states quietly.

She sniffles a bit, "I get emotional when I drink, apologies." she offers as she drains the rest of her whiskey and then slides the tumbler away. "Being left to die by the people that we should trust seems to be a reoccuring theme with some of the people I've met." she shakes her head.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight watches her as she moves around to sit next to him. "They all did. And my therapist has done extensive work in allowing me to handle and unpack them all in ways that I am satisfied with." He reaches up, and places a gloved hand on her arm (doing his best to avoid any of the bandages.) "It's quite alright. Emotion is what keeps us all honest with one another."

    "But yes. I believe I was chosen by Khonshu during that first traumatic experience" he says letting the hand drop without much emphasis. "That what I endured after were all simply placeholders to enable me to better accept the mantle he was going to place on me in that temple 5 years ago. Perhaps it is your calling to take in their stories and in time it might mold you to be better able to handle something in your future. Lessons are often taught with repetition after all."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a gentle nod to him, "Guys sorta want to run when you get all weepy on them, so thanks for that." she muses softly. Thankfully not all of her is injured, just some spots. "Means we're human most times." she states.

She listens to him though as he speaks and there is a nod, "Maybe so." she agrees with that. "And if you've experienced the same situation that others have in essence you might understand them a bit better." she comments.

"But...that is not a story I want to tell at the moment. Or I'll need to open another bottle." she admits.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight shakes his head. "Guys that run at the first sign of a woman being upset are not men in my opinion. They are children who need to grow up." He nods in agreement to his understanding of those who have endured similar wrongdoings as himself. "This is true and I believe that it gives me a truer perspective on those who have survived."

    He inclines his head in concession to her denial of her own story. "I will not push you into such a thing." He sips more of his drink. "Is there anything else you wish to know of me and my activities? Nightly or otherwise?" He gives her a smirk in the hopes to lighten the mood. "I think we're past the part of personal questions since you know I shower without my mask on."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a soft smile to that, "I tend to chase them off before the emotions come out." she chuckles. "But at least we know where you stand Mister Knight." she nods to that. "I'm sure if you do any sort of mundane research you'll find it easily enough, not something that is hidden." she admits.

"Oh I'll definitely be trying to figure out what that face of yours looks like." she gives a wink to him. "I've got a soft spot for strong jaws and masks apparently." she muses to that as she leans back in her chair. "And yeah...thank you for being so open to my horrible jokes." she adds to him.

"Anything that I can answer for you?" she asks him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight finishes the drink and sets the tumbler away, indicating his lack of need for another without words. "What's your favorite color?" he asks her, looking her over again. Without seeing his eyes, it's hard not to think he *isn't* undressing her from the stillness in his gaze. "For your persona, of course."

    As he starts to peel the mask back down he says, "Perhaps, in time, you will have a chance to see what lies under the rest of it. For now, a taste will have to suffice. And for the record," he adds, "I appreciate horrible jokes. They add life to an existence often shrouded in pain and death. It is the moments of respite that remind us to not get too full of ourselves, isn't it?"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to him, "You will come to find out that my favorite color in the whole wide world is purple. Lots of different shades. Like violet, lavender colors like that." she smiles to him. "And I'm guessing yours is something around the dove grey or moon white color." she nods to this. "Ooooh, a purple suit, that sounds pretty garish." she chuckles. "Maybe black and purple or something? Just not glaring hot pink." she muses.

She rubs her hands together, "Ooooh. I can send you bad jokes in the middle of the night then, excellent." she grins to that. "I should probably let you get back to saving the night or something." she murmurs to him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight grins. "That would be lovely... on both counts" he says as he slowly rises from the chair. "Are you better now?" he asks. "I know I am no doctor, but I hope that I gave you some respite in your time of pain and discomfort."

    He grins, she can tell from the contours of the mask, "As for saving the night? Unfortunately no. But there are a few matters that I need to look into. Some... reports have come my way of... disturbing coincidences. If they turn up anything I think you might be intersted in, I will let you know."

    "And do stop by the mission, I might have a few options for you and if you try them there, I can make the alterations myself, in any are needed" he pauses. "Once I have your measurements, of course."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan slowly slides off the chair after he rises and she gives him a smile, she's not as short as some other women and she's barefoot. Might be a nice change of pace. When he asks if she's better there's a smile, "Just one more thing..." she trails off as she closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around the man to hug him. Apparently fear and trepidation had been kicked over the edge.

"Better now." she whispers.

She's expecting to get shiv'd maybe? Who knows. She pulls back slowly and gives a nod, "I'd be happy to help if I can." she comments. "And I will stop by the mission sometime this week, I promise." she tells him. "You're dreadfully talented, Mister Knight. I'm looking forward to this...outfit." she smiles to him.

Marc Spector has posed:
    Mr. Knight wasn't expecting the hug but he does return it gently. Under suit is a man with a rather toned physique. As she lets go and gives her assent to her condition he smiles again and nods. "For that I am glad" he place a hand on her arm (again avoiding any tender areas) and then drops it. A silent show of his own affection to her.

    "Then send me what I need and I will make sure not to disappoint" he moves past her, back the way they came toward the door of the house.

    Once outside, the source of his originally silent approach hovers. A silver crescent shaped glider is waiting just beyond the step. It makes no sound as it silently waits for its passenger. Though there is a strange sort of vibration in the teeth, nothing painful, just noticeable at this close proximity.