Steven Grant / Marc Spector (
hasaknightjob) wrote in
fandomtownies2025-09-20 02:05 pm
Entry tags:
The Beach Behind Midnight Manor, Saturday Morning
The advantage of having a beach behind your home was that if you had an African Wild Dog that might want to run around outside, you had a great location for it.
Which was why Marc was on the beach watching Ziv - because of course that was Steven's daemon's name - run along the sand and splash her feet in the waves as they lapped on the shore. Would they need to worry about tracking sand and the smell of wet dog into the house? Eh, whatever.
Selene - because of freaking course - sat on Marc's shoulder.
"You can fly around if you want," Marc told her.
"I'm aware," she said, with that accent that was exactly like Khonshu's (because of course).
Marc shrugged the shoulder she wasn't sitting on. No business of his if she wanted to hang. Considering the talons, it was surprisingly comfortable for her to be resting there.
Marc hooked his thumbs in his pants pockets and watched over everything. On his shoulder, Selene did the same.
Minus the part about the pants pockets, of course.
[open. Conversation with Harley NFB please]
Which was why Marc was on the beach watching Ziv - because of course that was Steven's daemon's name - run along the sand and splash her feet in the waves as they lapped on the shore. Would they need to worry about tracking sand and the smell of wet dog into the house? Eh, whatever.
Selene - because of freaking course - sat on Marc's shoulder.
"You can fly around if you want," Marc told her.
"I'm aware," she said, with that accent that was exactly like Khonshu's (because of course).
Marc shrugged the shoulder she wasn't sitting on. No business of his if she wanted to hang. Considering the talons, it was surprisingly comfortable for her to be resting there.
Marc hooked his thumbs in his pants pockets and watched over everything. On his shoulder, Selene did the same.
Minus the part about the pants pockets, of course.
[open. Conversation with Harley NFB please]

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Or maybe it was just because she was distracted, since there was also a white squirrel on her shoulder, trying to climb its way up to the top of her head. "I'm tellin' ya, it's not gonna work!" she was telling him, exasperated but in a way like she already knew it wasn't going to do anything.
"Well you could've done your hair up different," the squirrel retorted.
Bruce, as usual, had no comment.
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"It's fine," Marc told her. Though he wondered how well a hyena would get along with Ziv, and vice versa.
"I'll give you some privacy," Selene said, and she flew off. Not to give privacy from her. Marc was pretty sure there was no such thing as far as daemons were concerned. Instead she was going to take care of any squirrels.
Well, except for one, maybe. Now that Marc could see Harley's other companion.
"You making friends with reporters?" he asked.
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Harley herself looked briefly like a deer in headlights - fitting with the menagerie theme, at least - but recovered somewhat admirably with a big scoff. "Pfft, no, this guy only reports to me."
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"Suits you," Marc said, meaning the squirrel. The color? The energy? Bit of both, really.
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"Thanks?" Harley said, like she wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment, an insult, or something neutral. "Little fucker was hiding from me."
That was not what had happened.
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"Sure it wasn't Bruce?" Marc asked.
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Harley's head tilted. "Wasn't Bruce how?"
Bruce, for his part, was now making his way over to Ziv as casually as a hyena could. Curious.
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Ziv for her part was coming over as well, likewise curious about Bruce, even if he wasn't Harley's daemon.
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The squirrel's attention was drawn back to ground level. "What? Like I would hide from that thing?"
He didn't have all of Harley's accent, but there were definite traces.
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Meanwhile Ziv had determined whatever she needed to with Bruce. She sat down in front of Marc.
"Hello, Harley," she said. Her accent was the same as Steven's. Her greeting was polite, with an accompanying head nod to acknowledge that this was their first time meeting.
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It led to curious squinting from her that moved from Ziv - after a vague "Hi" - to Marc.
And then ultimately to her pointing at the wild dog, with a, "Steven?"
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"Steven's," Marc confirmed.
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It made sense to her, that was enough.
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Anyway, point was, Watts and Jax were now headed outside, the former with two mugs of coffee in hand, one of which he held out to Marc once they caught up with him.
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"Watts," Selene said, from her perch on Marc's arm. "Jax."
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"Morning," Watts added with a nod of his own.
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"Doing okay?" Marc asked Watts, since the animals were taking care of themselves here. Though he did glance at Jax to make sure he was looking all right. Much as Marc could tell if a penguin was looking all right.
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"I am," Watts nodded. "It's been interesting. Yourself?"
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"Talking animals," Marc said, philosophically. "So normal still? For here?"
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"The qualifier is key," Watts acknowledged with a sip of his coffee.
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"You can tell who's Steven's," Marc said, watching this.
Selene made a small humph. Because it wasn't as though her being Marc's was subtle either.
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In the short time he'd known her, Selene also was prone to fussing over Jax and Watts (and, it went without saying, Steven and Ziv), just in a far less exuberant manner than Ziv did. Which was Marc through and through.
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"Trying not to think too much about what it means for - " Marc made a vague gesture with the hand holding the coffee cup, doing so carefully so as not to spill " - whatever the fuck this all is. Where they came from. Something."
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The one holding the cup, for the record, the coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim but not actually spilling over.
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"Probably more than one," Marc pointed out. He gestured towards the rest of the island, this time with his free hand. "Consider how many fucking versions of my world we've got running around here."
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