IC Inbox | Ryslig

[summonthesuit]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HASNOFEAR. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 13.15.15.14 *** HASNOFEAR has joined 13.15.15.14 <HASNOFEAR> Hello! This is Steven Grant! If you need something, just leave me a message and I'll get back to you asap!

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[thegreatmysterio]

[Quentin already knows about the monster junk talk, considering he was a part of it for the laughs. That wasn't hard to piece together. But right now, he's pieced together a few other things on the network. Hopefully he's not shoving his foot in his mouth.]

So. You come from the same world as Spider-Man and me, if I remember right. You knew enough the Avengers to know one of them was... [Quentin grimaces a little. The name still leaves a bad taste in his mouth.] Tony Stark. Gotta admit, though, Starkers would have been a better name. Inflated the guy's ego even more than usual, but.

[He shrugs, and starts vaguely counting on his fingers.]

British slang. Knows insomnia, and how to deal with it. Happens to also have some white glowing eyes, if I've heard the rumors right. [He casts a casual glance in Steven's direction to get a read on the guy.] Guess you bring a whole new meaning to 'knight in shining armor', huh?

[summonthesuit]

[As soon as it clicks just what Quentin's talking about, Steven can't quite stop himself from laughing. Sure, Mr. Knight goes around with a mask, but it's honestly just for show. Steven had already suspected a secret identity would never fly, and it was confirmed when Dr. Osborn identified him within seconds by his voice alone.

He quirks his head lightly, lowering the glass of water.]

Ooh, clever. Guess you caught me.

[thegreatmysterio]

[...Well, this is going a lot easier than expected. Quentin feels weirdly wrong-footed now. Usually secret identities were a whole... thing that had to be protected with your life, or the reveal of 'em would spell the end of it. Huh.]

...I guess I did. And you're- fine with that? Not gonna do the whole 'Have you told anyone, what do you know' schtick? No, ah, bullet to the head or whatever? You're just admitting you're Mr. Knight here?

[Steven, how are you from the same world as him. No heroic type deals with this shit so casually.]

[summonthesuit]

[Oh Beck. Buddy. You've been around Spider-Man too long. Steven's still smiling, but now he's shaking his head in a bemused manner as well.]

Bullet to the head? What do you take me for? I'm not that kind of person, now am I? [His fingers tap at the side of his glass.] Look at me, I'm the only English Naphil in town. I've got no chance of pulling the wool over anyone's eyes. ...Dunno why I even would. I reckon back home it would've mattered more, what with all the bureaucracy involved, but here? We've all got superpowers here, don't we?

[thegreatmysterio]

[More like 'been around SHIELD too long'. Trying to stay one step ahead of those guys has lead to some extra warranted caution about this kinda thing.]

Hey, I've seen those- [He vaguely gestures at Steven.] Marks on you! I don't know what kinda... secret agent shit you could have done off the clock back there. Anyone would have loved having that brain of yours on tap.

[Quentin would have, ergo: he says it with absolute surety. But then his gaze drops away from Steven, towards the floor. Uncertain.]

...You think these are superpowers? Not some... [He blows out a breath.] I wouldn't say curse, but, it's... There's gotta be a catch here, right? I don't think Captain America had to, y'know. [Another vague gesture, jerky and uncomfortable. 'Eat people' goes unspoken.] That was at least science. This shit? Magic. That's... way messier. The gods around here don't help either.

[summonthesuit]

[The mention of 'marks' hits Steven a little harder than it should. Secret agent shit sounds about right; that's roughly the same as mercenary shit, right? But deep down, he knows that's not the only origin those scars could have. Some of them are just too old. Either way, they're Marc's marks, not his.

The way the conversation continues isn't helping any, either. He huffs out a large breath, shifting in his seat.]

It is messy. But it's still powers, innit? [There's a brief pause, then he plunges onward.] I know all about gods, trust me. Mr. Knight got his powers 'cause of a deal with Khonshu. Egyptian god of the night sky. The old bird needed an avatar to exact his personal brand of justice on Earth. But yep, that came with a price. Marc was the one paying up, actually.