catch-all.

[vestments]

Who: marc spector + VARIOUS
Where: AROUND
When: june(ish)
What: catch-all, tdm overflow

Warnings: general moon knight content warnings apply, specifics tba

Comments

[pagings]

[ that's probably a fair feeling to have. karen doesn't necessarily love the fact she always has one on her, that she has to have it on her to really feel safe anymore, but she supposes that is also because she knows that even with a gun in her hand, she's far from the most dangerous person she knows. or, if she was really honest, far from brutal. instead, she knows what it's like to be scared, and has been in enough situations where her pistol was the only thing that has kept her going. that's kept her alive.

karen is not here to convince more people to carry. she is far from the poster child of concealed carry. but the feeling of fear, of real fear, still keeps her up at night. and at least here she doesn't feel completely helpless. just a little... out of her depth.

she listens, and he doesn't move, so neither does she. his comment, his tone especially, brings her even more of a pause. ]

Coffee? That's it? [ she doesn't know why that feels oddly... superficial. not that she's anyone to judge.

another beat, an exhale. no, she's not even going to acknowledge the euphemism part. not right now. instead she calls over the bar, still not quite moving from her spot just yet. ]

I can help you look, if you want.

[vestments]

( he notes her tone, the thread of incredulity and surprise at his response. what, did she think he was here to find a weapon? or to mug any unfortunate that, like the both of them, seems to consider it a valid stop-off on their journey to fuck knows where? coffee isn't that different to food, and the way his brow furrows, the way his mouth twists, does more than suggest it's a passing thought: what's wrong with hunting out coffee?

the dark circles beneath his eyes, the ones that speak of habitual sleep deprivation rather than a few poor nights here and there, probably go some way towards explaining why coffee, and in lieu of answering her offer, he just lifts a hand — empty — palm facing upwards. )

It's been a while since I slept, ( a beat, and more to himself than her, he mutters, ) Don't really count whatever it was before Yom Crook's.

( he still doesn't turn his back to her, but he does step out of the doorway, a whole two steps closer, the door swinging shut behind him. there's no immediately noticeable weapon on his person, and though it's hard to discern if there's anything hidden beneath the jacket, he keeps his hands visible. he's got both height and bulk on her, if that's what it comes to, and so— ) Sounds like it's been a while since the water's been used. Wouldn't trust it unless you're planning on boiling it.

( then, still not responding to her 'I can help', he nods his head towards her hands. towards the gun. ) I'm not going to hurt you over a jar of instant. I can empty my pockets if that'd make you feel better, but until you lower that, I'm not going to let you anything.

[pagings]

[ okay but... can you blame her? for thinking that he was one of the raiders, or a looter, or someone hanging around for trouble instead of the alternative? even if she were back home the gut check would still feel the same. he has to admit that all of this feels really suspicious, but she's working through it.

he steps out from the doorway and karen adjusts a bit where she's sitting, finally seeing him standing there in his entirely-white attire. her eyes cross over everything about him that she can see - the clothes, which feel a little too much like something fisk would wear to be comfortable, and the bags under his eyes. he keeps talking, mentioning his lack of sleep, the water, and every second or so she continues to relax even further.

so much that by the time he nods his head to the gun, she... she hasn't forgotten that she's holding it, exactly, but she has lost track of how it might seem to him. she blinks, remembering, and then immediately slips the safety on and tucks it away. ] Sorry. No- it's fine. Just... [ trying to stay safe? trying to not get taken advantage of? she shakes her head, deciding not to finish that statement, and instead pushes herself to her feet. ]

I'm Karen, by the way.