[center][img]https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/marveldatabase/images/9/99/MoonKnight.png/revision/latest?cb=20150218201439[/img][/center] Marc stood at the side of the pool looking down. The man had a heated Olympic sized swimming pool with an inground pool bar, complete with cemented in seats, a conjoined jacuzzi and sauna, shower and steam rooms off to the side. Because of course he did. [color=ed1c24][b]“Come on, Marc! The water’s great!”[/b][/color] Marc Spector tied off the drawstring on his borrowed swim trunks. Samuels had intercepted them heading for the pool and given them both “house gear”. Marc now had a pair of borrowed lime green trunks, and Marlene had a form fitting red two piece, which she wore spectacularly. Spector thought to himself what kind of man kept form-fitting swimwear that specifically fit women whose measurements matched the lovely Marlene Alraune. Almost sensing Spector’s speculation, Samuels had chimed in with “Mr Grant often entertains various philanthropic interests.” Because of course he did. Spector began to wonder what philanthropic interests out there involved free bikinis for women who looked as good as Marlene and why they never door-knocked in his area, until he realized that for all he knew they could have and he’d forgotten about them. Marc took a deep breath and dove in, he allowed himself to drift underwater before throwing out a few frogkicks, by the time he surfaced he’d swam a good 40 metres before he surfaced on the other side of the pool from Marlene. [color=ed1c24][b]“Wow! Did you know he can do that?”[/b][/color] Marlene asked DuChamp, who was wearing a suit and standing in the dry area tending the pool bar. Biting down on a cigarette holder with the side of his mouth, deep in concentration as he filled a cocktail shaker. [color=0054a6][b]“What? Swim? Of course he can swim. He’s a Marine.”[/b][/color] Marlene looked quizzically at the Frenchman for a minute and wondered if the word “marine” was lost in translation and he thought he was in some type of completely aquatic corps, or if he was referring to the training of the the Marine corps as being rounded in its physical requirements. She decided to allow both of them to keep their dignity by not asking the question. [color=ed1c24][b]“Marc, did you know you could do that? You just swam almost a full lap without taking a breath.”[/b][/color] Spector looked at her blankly. He’d just been swimming, he hadn’t really put any thought into it. He climbed up out of the pool and took a few breaths, he dove in and swam full smooth strokes, trying to remain calm and control his air usage. He passed his previous mark and saw the edge approaching. He tumble turned and pushed off the wall, letting himself glide efficiently before returning to smooth strokes. He started to wonder whether this was normal, or right. More gliding strokes, and he made a second tumble turn, pushing off and gliding again. He saw Marlene’s legs under the water and surfaced. [b]“About 120? Is that-- should I be able to do that? I think I could have kept going too.”[/b] Samuels walked in on the three and left towels for all in attendance, before turning and leaving. Marc could have sworn he saw him eyeballing him as he walked away, but then his French friend interrupted his suspicions. Jean Paul chimed in [color=0054a6][b]“Don’t do that. It’s one thing in training, but I don’t want to have to jump in to save you when you pass out. If you want to black out I have stuff over here that’s more fun. Pull up a chair, I’m going to make the pair of you a Pepa.”[/b][/color] [b]“You make a cocktail with Dr Pepper?”[/b] [color=0054a6][b]“No, you uncultured swine. A Pepa. It’s named after the famous actor Pepa Bonafe.”[/b][/color] The pair looked at him completely baffled as if he was inventing words. [color=0054a6][b]“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t heard of Pepa Bonafe."[/b][/color] He looked to the younger woman. [color=0054a6][b]"Marlene? Oh no. Him I understand, even before he lost his memory he always had questionable taste, but you, sweet girl?”[/b][/color] DuChamp started assembling liquor bottles and pouring in cognac, vodka and brandy as he explained. [color=0054a6][b]“Pepa Bonafe was a silent film actress from the 1910s and 20s. She was in Shylock and Redenzione.”[/b][/color] [b]“Was that a silent movie?”[/b] [color=0054a6][b]“Two! They’re two different classic silent French films! Sacre bleu!”[/b][/color] [b]“So I should know her because she was in 2 movies almost a hundred years ago?”[/b] [color=0054a6][b]“She was in a whole bunch of movies! Those two are just classics that everyone should have heard of!”[/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b]“Well-- her drink’s good anyway.”[/b][/color] Marlene chimed in, having grabbed a glass whilst Jean Paul was ranting with full patriotic exasperation. Samuels returned, seeming somewhat nervous. Something was making him act particularly anxious in the last half hour. Was he upset they were using the Pool Bar or was it something else. [color=39b54e]“Sir, Nedd-- Uh, Sir. The Cook has now returned. Unless anyone has any specific requests dinner can be served in an hour.”[/color] Sweat was pouring off his brow, and not just because of the humidity from the heated pool. [color=ed1c24][b]“Thank you, Mr Samuels. We’ll finish this and then get changed for dinner.”[/b][/color] Marlene called out, raising her drink. Satisfied, Samuels scurried away. Marc picked up his glass and downed the whole thing. [color=0054a6][b]“Hey! You need to taste it!”[/b][/color] complained DuChamp. [b]“I’ll see you lovely people at dinner. I’d better get ready.”[/b] Marc said. “And also run my eyes over this place that keeps feeling so ‘off’.” He thought to himself. He swam across to where Samuels left one of the towels as the pair watched on. [color=ed1c24][b]“So… does he know?”[/b][/color] Marlene asked. [color=0054a6][b]“Quoi? Eh? What are you talking about?”[/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b]“That you’re gay. You are gay, aren’t you, Jean Paul?”[/b][/color] A wry smile creased across the French spy soldier’s face. [color=0054a6][b]“I knew I liked you, girl...”[/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b]“So does he?”[/b][/color] [color=0054a6][b]“No. Don’t think he suspects a thing.”[/b][/color] [color=ed1c24][b]“Aaand…”[/b][/color] [color=0054a6][b]“Oh, he’s as straight as they come. More’s the pity. I think that’s probably why he doesn’t suspect, to be honest. There was a time where it hurt, honestly, but I’ve moved well beyond that.”[/b][/color] Marc had reached the edge and started to pull himself out as water dripped off a battle sculpted body as he reached for a towel. [color=0054a6][b]“Still, it doesn’t hurt to look. And he is certainly easy on the eyes. I know you’ve noticed too, Mademoiselle…”[/b][/color] Marlene looked across the pool and noticed she was biting her lip. She returned her attention to her new French friend and the pair clinked glasses and shared a knowing laugh. [center][h1][b]🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑[/b][/h1][/center] [color=00aeef][b]“Flint! Get your ass up!”[/b][/color] Detective Flint looked over his computer monitor to Captain Brennan-Kasser who was barking for his presence. [color=00746b]“Yeah, Chief?”[/color] Captain Miles Brennan-Kasser, often named Captain BK, Two-Dads or the Burger King by any detective who believed they were out of earshot was a man whose heft certainly fitted the fast food franchises moniker, and whose personality suggested either severe constipation or resentment of the inevitable heart attack which had his name on it. He’d long since replaced maintaining his physical fitness for the field with an appreciation for the bureaucracy and mastering the second language of Police Buzzwords to a level of fine precision. [color=00aeef][b]“Don’t call me ‘Chief’. ‘Captain’.”[/b][/color] Flint sucked on the inside of his teeth on one side of his mouth and acquiesced. [color=00746b]“What did you want, Captain Brennan-Kasser?”[/color] he said, the last part between gritted teeth. [color=00aeef][b]“The… animal control incident… from yesterday has moved North. It’s reportedly in Lincoln Park as we speak, has killed four and wounded a half dozen more. I want you out there ASAP.”[/b][/color] Flint swept his long coat and hat off his desk and fired a final inquiry at his Captain. [color=00746b]“Shouldn’t that be more of a uniformed officer issue? Or, worst case, Tactical?”[/color] [color=00aeef][b]“Uniformed officers are en scene, and I believe they’re requesting SWAT backup. However there’s still the intel situation where we don’t know exactly what the damn thing is in the first place at present. We’re getting conflicting reports that it’s a bear that’s wired on angel dust, an oversized wolf, a giant alsatian or…”[/b][/color] Flint looked back. [color=00aeef][b]“Numerous eyewitness accounts claiming that it’s a werewolf. I know, I know… But Police Officers have largely devoted efforts to clearing the area, securing a perimeter and ensuring public safety. Get down there, find out what you can and wait on tactical. I don’t want to burn two detectives on a damn ‘werewolf’ or ‘animal control’ situation.”[/b][/color] Flint slapped the button for the elevator. Two minutes later he was in his dark green BMW 3 series, reaching out the window at 50mph to set up his flashing light. With business taken care off he called for his L-Phone for Lexy to play Tom Waits “Rain Dogs”. The program took him literally and played the specific song rather than the whole album, but Flint didn’t mind. He tapped his fingers on the wheel to the heavy percussive beat and barked out the lyrics, imitating Waits bourbon and pack-of-smokes-a-day growl. [color=00746b][i][b][h3]“Oh how we danced and we swallowed the night, For it was all ripe for dreaming, Oh how we danced away all of the lights, We’ve allllways been out of our minds.”[/h3][/b][/i][/color] [center][h1][b]🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑[/b][/h1][/center] [hr] Songwriter: Thomas Alan Waits Rain Dogs lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group