@agentsterling plotted starter - WTF YOU'RE MOON KNIGHT??? (lol)
White glowing eyes watch what's happening below - take in the sight of men and women meeting up at a rather secluded spot, dressed in fine garments---
And armed. Yeah, they're definitely armed. To be honest, they're swimming in weapons of all kinds - quite literally so, that is: Boxes upon boxes are stacked up against the side of an old shipping container, words being exchanged...
And Marc is crouching on top of another of those containers, a bit of a distance away, higher up than the others; Khonshu had asked him - or rather, demanded him - to travel to the US to solve the issue that's presenting itself here. Usually one to remain more-or-less local these days, whenever crime is going to be deep-rooted and especially worrisome to the dead bird, Moon Knight is still very much ready and available to expand his borders of operation, so to speak---
"...El de la izquierda es el gran jefe."
A hum, a glance toward where Jake is guiding Marc's gaze to; A man who might be somewhere in his late fifties (might be part of the local Mafia, Jake notes) takes a step forward, followed by what might be bodyguards of sorts. Two groups, an exchange happening between them...
---Thing is, it's not only about those weapons. It's about so, so much more.
"...The kids?" Attention flicks away, trailing along other shipping containers---
"...I suppose they're inside the red one." A brief pause. "See, there's two more of those big boys waitin' right at the front door of said container; Ain't that awfully suspicious, huh."
"...Can't believe they're smugglin' children in shipping containers." A grind of teeth behind the mask, a heavy sensation tugging at the center of Marc's chest, his heart. "How long have they been in there---"
"Dunno. But if we ain't stoppin' them from pullin' through, these kids are in trouble."
A sudden gunshot is ripping Marc out of his thoughts and he whips his head around to where those two groups are currently facing each other; There's blood on the ground, one guy dropping dead, and now everyone's starting to scramble and more bullets begin to fly---
"M-Marc?! I think we---I think we should stop them, like, right now---?"
---Steven barely manages to finish his inquiry, and Marc's already on the fly - literally so. Cape shaped into a crescent moon, he jumps from the top of that container he's been perching on and flings himself straight in the middle of that battlefield. He can see from the corner of his eyes that some men are already trying to get back to the red shipping container---
A brief moment of general confusion as his figure lands on the hard concrete, since he's appeared out of literal nowhere and no one really seems to know who the fuck he is - but bullets are soon penetrating his body and Marc groans, storms forward, begins to take on one guy after another. A kick, a punch, a jump, his cape used to catch some of those bullets just to throw them right back---
"...Try to protect the red container! If any bullets hit it, they might break through an' hurt the kids!"
"---Fucking hell---" Another jump, a swirl in the air, a cape now catching some of those stray bullets that were heading right toward the no-go-zone. A sudden impact on his chest catches him off-balance, though, and Marc finds himself flying through the air again before his back is colliding with another shipping container in a loud bang.
---The pain is something else, and Marc lets out a deep groan followed by an "Oh my fucking god the hell was that---"
"---A fuckin' massive shotgun, jefe. Watch out!"
Marc can duck his head just in time before another shot of that massive shotgun can hit him - and he wheezes for a second and a half there...
Fuck, yeah, he's invincible, basically, but it still hurts, man!
