In the Waning Moon [Moon Knight/Daredevil]

[Rift]

As the self-driving vehicle plotted it course and crawled along, Mr. Knight remained remarkably calm. Any hint of his injuries nagging him was gone, at least from his voice, as he added occasional details. It wasn't until Daredevil asked him about acting as backup, that he paused and grew silent for a moment.

"Computer, playback video. File name 'Departure' and turn audio up."

On command a screen appeared, lowering from a section of the roof. On it was spliced together footage from various older news broadcasts, crime scene video taken directly from internal police sources, and grainy images of Moon Knight battered, broken, and in handcuffs courtesy of an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. The audio consisted largely of news broadcasts and a podcaster discussing Moon Knight.

"In the latest incident reportedly involving the vigilante Moon Knight, a number of drug dealers were left with severe and in some cases crippling injuries."

static

"The body of the suspect, a convicted human trafficker was found in a nearby Dumpster, three crescent moons branded onto his forehead. While the scars are old, it is clear that the man has run afoul of Moon Knight on three separate occasions. Whether this is some kind of three strikes and you are out system employed by the vigilante or criminals retaliating in fear their associate would draw Moon Knight to them is unknown at this time..."

static

"But that is where you are wrong. He's not like Spider-Man who only does what he has to stop the criminal and leaves them for the cops. He's not like Iron Fist and Luke Cage where he's hired to help out and is a known face in the streets. He's maiming people. He leaves broken bodies in gutters and alleyways and the only way these people survive from internal bleeding or from going into shock is if someone happens to find them before it is too late. Those are only the victims we know about, the ones who made it to the hospital in time. Some don't. And he's not like a second Punisher. Frank Castle is a known entity. He has his beliefs, his code, a manifesto if you will. Criminals great and small know to fear The Punisher or you are going to end up in a casket. But Moon Knight? There is no consistency. He might brand a pimp, leave an arms dealer in traction, or leave a person filled with bullets and silver moon knife things because he considers them a werewolf. The man is insane..."

The video ended and Mr. Knight leaned forward, fingers steepled.

"Partially. Backup is hard to come by and effective backup even rarer. But as you can tell, before I went away and left New York, I was...ruffling some feathers. Law Enforcement took issue with my methods as did S.H.I.E.L.D when I failed to comply with their registration nonsense. I was offered a choice, not much of one mind you, but the option was given to me. I can operate, registered despite my protest, but I have to follow rules. Behave as it were. I agreed to the terms, but I refuse to let my work be impeded by government bureaucracy."

He turned to look out a window before continuing.

"I serve Khonshu. I protect those who travel the night. I fight things not of this plane and safeguard those who don't even know they need protection. Sometimes that means I need to push farther than Spider-Man. Farther than you. The public doesn't understand this. The police do not understand this. I don't expect them to, but I can't work with them if every time I come sniffing around a crime scene they think I created it. I roll up in this suit, in this car and the cops can have plausible deniability at least and at best trust that I am needed to fix the problem even if they don't like it."

Turning back to Matt he said, "But you are a different matter. Those out there fighting the good fight are more skeptical, less inclined to believe in second chances. They will take more convincing to stay out of my way. So yes, while backup is appreciated and definitely a good reason to have you tag along, I also want to show you that things are...different now. I'm different. I'm not you, I'm not the wallcrawler, but I'm also not Castle. I'm not Bullseye. You can experience this firsthand. The others trust you. If you sign off on my operating in the Big Apple once more others will give it credence."

As the limo came to a stop he added, "Besides. You'd have just followed me anyway because as of yet you don't trust me. You've as vested an interest in keeping Wild alive as you do seeing him stopped. So if you want to view this as babysitting or confirming that I'm not here to cause problems, I won't hold it against you."

[webdevil]

"Partially. Backup is hard to come by and effective backup even rarer. But as you can tell, before I went away and left New York, I was...ruffling some feathers. Law Enforcement took issue with my methods as did S.H.I.E.L.D when I failed to comply with their registration nonsense. I was offered a choice, not much of one mind you, but the option was given to me. I can operate, registered despite my protest, but I have to follow rules. Behave as it were. I agreed to the terms, but I refuse to let my work be impeded by government bureaucracy."

Daredevil remained silent. He knew this was the preamble. Let him continue...

"I serve Khonshu. I protect those who travel the night. I fight things not of this plane and safeguard those who don't even know they need protection. Sometimes that means I need to push farther than Spider-Man. Farther than you. The public doesn't understand this. The police do not understand this. I don't expect them to, but I can't work with them if every time I come sniffing around a crime scene they think I created it. I roll up in this suit, in this car and the cops can have plausible deniability at least and at best trust that I am needed to fix the problem even if they don't like it."

Daredevil heard the voice shifting between personas as the man in white said this. It was a difficult thing to discern as true DID - maybe Spector was either self-aware or just crazy - but it was there.

"But you are a different matter. Those out there fighting the good fight are more skeptical, less inclined to believe in second chances. They will take more convincing to stay out of my way. So yes, while backup is appreciated and definitely a good reason to have you tag along, I also want to show you that things are...different now. I'm different. I'm not you, I'm not the wallcrawler, but I'm also not Castle. I'm not Bullseye. You can experience this firsthand. The others trust you. If you sign off on my operating in the Big Apple once more others will give it credence."

Now the Man Without Fear was interested. He was out of his mind to think he would just "sign off" on a man like Moon Knight operating in New York without a chaperone. Ever. True, and the man himself said it, he was no Frank and certainly no Bullseye. But he also wasn't someone like Blade or Ghost Rider who stuck to vampires and the supernatural respectively. Spector dabbled in organized street crime. It muddied the waters. It made him unpredictable.

"Besides. You'd have just followed me anyway because as of yet you don't trust me. You've as vested an interest in keeping Wild alive as you do seeing him stopped. So if you want to view this as babysitting or confirming that I'm not here to cause problems, I won't hold it against you."

If Daredevil wasn't wearing a horned cowl that covered his eyes as much as his forehead, anybody would've seen the Red Man's brow go into his hairline in astonishment. It hardened quickly. Self-aware this moment, perhaps, but unpredictable.

With a stiffness in his body language, Daredevil didn't reply verbally, but merely nodded and gestured his counterpart to lead on. He wasn't comfortable with this, but he had no objection either.

[Rift]

"We're here."

The door opened and Mr. Knight stepped out into the darkness. The car, while still running, had all of its lights go dark.

"Most of the information I have on the area is probably a bit outdated. I was under the impression that the dock area had largely abandoned by organized crime and that between your continued pressure and Fisk not appreciating the competition, the Triad had all but abandoned New York. If they returned to this locale I theorize that either Wilde has called in a major chip with them or they don't know who it is they are meeting with. He has a flair for the theatrical that he couldn't be broken of. It would be wise to assume they are as pleased to have to be dealing with him as we are."

Withdrawing a truncheon from his jacket pocket he twirled it before popping his neck. If the injuries from earlier were bothering him, he showed no sign of it.

"Seeing as this is technically your territory I'll follow your lead. It's possible after all that you've had a run in or so with the Triad members. As for Wilde...well I know who he was not who he has become. He's dangerous, psychotic, and likely packing more than one surprise given the unpredictability of his upgrades. I recommend caution even if you are familiar with the area. So...after you."

The cooperative tone and offer was highly unusual. Mr. Knight it seemed was operating differently than Moon Knight and for anyone that had known him, especially someone like Daredevil, it might seem jarring and possibly reinforce the notion that Wilde was not the only madman operating in the city. Still it was a far cry from the Moon Knight that had been here before. Whether or not Mr. Knight was stable and would remain the dominant personality throughout the coming battle remained to be seen.

[webdevil]

Daredevil was once more taken aback by Spector’s strange civility when just barely twenty minutes ago he was trying to aggressively get him out of the way. Nevertheless, he did not need telling twice and made a gesture with his left hand towards the southwest facing wall. The building had a standard guard package meaning they would be covering obvious points of entry but not eyeballing the windows unless the police were boxing them in for a siege. This made their excursion easy as Daredevil was still actively trying to avoid a fight until absolutely necessary. Say what he will – perhaps Spector was just that crazy – but those injuries were real and that strange suit did not feel very flexible enough for an injured man to swing a kick in let alone a club.

As he got a few paces behind the wall (and just in time as the guard he sensed began eyeballing where he had just been), he ran his hand along the side of the building. Immediately his Radar informed him there was an emergency exit along the side and a window a few yards down and about ten feet up from it.

“Door might be rigged with an alarm. Try to stay out of sight. I’ll see about getting it open from inside,” Daredevil whispered quietly in Spector’s masked ear before sensing the guard behind the wall about twenty feet south of them.

“Oh and try not to make too much noise. There is a guard playing on his phone just over there but he will look up if you do anything stupid,” he added and with that (and even quieter than his whisper), he vaulted up to the window, grabbing loose footholds with his toes and gently pushed the window open and slipped inside.

Within the same vault inside, he rolled behind a series of crates in a nearby corner. It felt like dust was kicked up here recently, which meant the area was in use. He would not be able to stay here long. But he didn’t need to. He needed to find a guard with a mag key on his belt which would allow him to open the emergency exit and let “Mr. Knight” inside. Besides, Knight knew more of what he was looking for than DD so as much as he loathed the notion, he needed Spector.

[Rift]

Spector merely nodded. Daredevil was of course correct in this matter. Going in noisily was likely going to get people killed, if not the two vigilantes, than at least the criminals within. Wilde was psychotic, unhinged, and prone to committing acts of severe violence at a moment's notice. The irony of that assessment was not lost on Mr. Knight as he waited silently. The waiting game was of course not something he was unaccustomed to. The number of times Marc had been forced to silently wait on a bluff, in bushes, or across the street atop a building were numerous. His time as a mercenary had been critical to the building of a skill that did not come easily to him: patience.

Khonshu unfortunately was not used to having to wait. Perhaps his status as a deity meant he was used to lesser beings simply doing as he demanded without question.

That, or he's simply the part of you that is tired of waiting and wants to indulge in the violence as an outlet for all the pent up rage rather than going to therapy. I suppose either is possible, he thought, ignoring the action figure sized Khonshu pointing towards the guard on his phone while making slicing motions across his own throat.

His hand rested ever so slightly against his side, truncheon within reach if he needed it before Daredevil rolled open the welcome mat, and he tried not to wonder just how inadequate that particular weapon might be against Wilde. His upgrades had managed to take Moon Knight by complete surprise, overpowering him and leaving him closer to death than he had been since becoming the moon god's avatar. That was Moon Knight though, avenging anger and wrath, the mighty fist of Khonshu. He was Mr. Knight and that meant he had to play it smart. They wouldn't be able to beat him with brute strength alone.

He used to be your friend. an ally. A protege. Perhaps that can be used to knock him off balance even if temporarily. Besides, he knows you as a loner. He won't expect the devil.

[webdevil]

His opportunity came a mere fifteen seconds after he landed amongst the stock as a guard, who might have detected motion, came to investigate. Daredevil pulled out his billy club and drew breath, careful to subtly lean against a tarp he managed to find covering some of the crates. His Radar pulsed out in sync with his heartbeat, painting the perfect picture of the man and his echoing footfalls.

bumpbump. bumpbump. bumpbump. bumpbump.

tap. tap. tap. tap. tap. tap.

The man paused for a moment. The smell of oil and the ringing feel of weighted steel in the man's hands indicated an off-market rifle, likely converted to automatic. Whatever was in here was clearly above the paygrade of the glock carrying kind, that was for sure. He wondered if that was why there was a tarp over the crates he was leaning on. Not to be distracted by this intruding thought, however, Daredevil laser focused his Radar to anticipate the guard's body language. No tension, nothing beyond the initial shock. It must be bright enough in the room that the man did not think to pull out a light, Daredevil realized with a moment's relief, because he felt his body exhaling slowly as the guard moved on, thinking it was probably just the window ("gotta get those windows checked... Never know..." he heard him mutter quietly to himself as he walked passed.)

That split second revealed a mag stripe keycard on the back of the man's belt, and with a quick flick of the wrist, extended the flat blade of the billy club, and an even quicker swipe with the club, slashed the cheap wire cord connecting the card to his belt. Letting it drop only an inch as he did so, he snuck back to the side door he left Mr. Knight at and after running a hand on the side panel of the door to find the sensor, he pushed the keycardon the pad, opening the door with a faint "click" and motioning Mr. Knight inside.

"I doubt we have long. It only takes one guard sitting at the desk to look up at the security cameras, and after which, we'll be in for a fight," he said and began making mental preparations of the environment in case it came to said fight.

As the door clicked shut, he heard guns clicking all around and its owners signatures lighting up like Christmas trees.

"On. Cue," he said dolefully.

[Rift]

Mr. Knight cracked his knuckled and rolled his head enough for his neck to follow suit. Eyes narrowing he prepared to face the gunmen and whatever other surprises lay in wait.

"Midnight is an opportunist, he'll strike when he thinks we are distracted by the others and he has no apprehension about using them as living shields. I understand that is a problem for you, so be aware," he told Daredevil as he took stock of the situation.

Jeff may be with the Triad in hopes of getting out the city or he may just be using them as cannon fodder to wear us down. Either way, knowing I am not as dead as he had hoped, he will stick around to try and finish what he started earlier this evening, he thought.

Gripping a truncheon in one hand and a trio of moon darts on the other, he nearly began to attack when movement caught his eye. It wasn't Wilde and it wasn't a gangster with a gun, but instead a small white blur. It took a moment for him to realize that it was Khonshu in miniature form, again no larger than a child's toy. He sat atop a crate, feet kicking in the air like a toddler, and shook his head in disapproval.

Cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice he said, "Should just slit ol'hornhead's throat and be done with it, because you know your former apprentice will do it for you and not be nearly as quick about it. Besides, he's gonna soil his crimson boxers if he can't keep these goons breathing and you know Jeff ain't gonna care about them. I mean, neither do I. They impede travelers in the night just as much as one hopped up cyborg, but instead of doing what you know needs to be done, you are here playing tag team with a guy who would just as soon see you put in prison. For shame. You used to be something Marc. Used to be my Fist. Now look at ya, running around trying to get in the cool kids club."

Mr. Knight was distracted enough that he nearly caught a round in the shoulder, spinning low at the last second as he released the moon darts at a gunman, striking him in the hand and side and causing him to drop his rifle. As another tried to aim, Mr. Knight sent his truncheon flying, shattering the man's nose.

"That was close. Maybe Midnight won't even have to do the deed himself. I mean c'mon, a wittle broken nose? Whatever happened to the guy that cut off the face of his worst enemy just to never have to deal with the freak again?"

Marc tried to block out the chattier than usual deity and for the first time ever, wished he was Daredevil. At least then he wouldn't be getting lectured by a supernatural being only he could hear in the middle of a life or death battle.

"Hey! For all you know, he's got a little Lucifer sitting on his shoulder asking him to give these idiots what they have coming to them. I mean a man like that has got to be a bit psycho."

Tag: webdevil

[webdevil]

Daredevil immediately feinted to his right, forcing the guns to turn for the fraction of a second to track him before using the momentum to carry him adajacent and forward and into the closest gunman, setting his arm wide and getting behind him as a human shield. He had a second to wonder if the Triad had any compunction of killing their own men to get their man, and he was disappointed that they happily would. Sensing his shield took one in the shoulder and Knight was having trouble of his own, Daredevil gritted his teeth and felt his muscles tighten. But then suddenly, Knight fired off those dart things he sensed whiz past on the wind gave him a needed opening.

"New plan," he muttered to himself and with that, flung his billy club to time it perfectly with Spector throwing his own truncheon into the goon on Daredevil's right. The billy club ricocheted once, twice, three times.

CRANNNG!
ZZZT.

And all at once it was chaos. Daredevil knew he struck gold because they (the twenty or so thugs that were still up and active) began screaming in rapid fire Mandarin which loosely translated amidst all the shrieks: "What happened to the lights?"

Checking to see that his human shield would not suffer any fatal damage, he lowered him into the recovery position, grabbed his hand, and said "Keep pressure. You'll be fine," in a snarl before going right to work. It was a dance in the dark, and one where everyone had to experience the world as he did: Blind.

SMACK.
POW.
DIPIDIPDIP.
THWACK!

The noises of heavy blows echoed in the dark, which only caused the gunfire to flare up wildly, but uselessly. And then it died as fear began to settle in. The hunters were suddenly now the hunted.

[Rift]

As everything turned dark Mr. Knight followed Daredevil's lead and went to work. The darkness would occasionally be broken by muzzle flashes and the pained cries of men wildly attacking shadows around them. Mr. Knight added to the symphony of pain, his truncheon connecting with an elbow, then a knee, the crunching of bone overpowered by yelps and gunfire.

He rolled over a crate before sending the thug on the other end crashing face first into it. Before the man had even settled to warehouse floor the truncheon was flying through the air, smacking a would-be gunman in the moth hard enough to remove teeth, a swift uppercut finishing him off. And so it went for a few moments that seemed to stretch into eternity for the criminals as a knight and a devil systematically took them apart and left them in heaps on the floor.

Marc was busy pummeling a foe, trying his best to ignore the pint-sized Khonshu urging him to hit the man harder, when a voice called out in mandarin.

<"Enough! Weapons down! Weapons down! Don't you idiots see you've lost!"> a man ordered.

Though he was not completely certain, Mr. Knight could have sworn it was the voice of his contact, a low-ranking member of the Triad that hoped to move higher without having to really dirty his hands. He was okay with selling bootleg merchandise and even drugs to school children, but drew the line at the work that would have seen his career skyrocket.

"Yeah and then if he actually did act as a hatchet man either Punisher or you would have to put him in the ground since we all know the motormouth webbed wonder and company wouldn't have the stones," Khonshu said from whatever dark corner he was in.

Although the assembled Triad members, those still standing at any rate, seemed to listen, at least one of them snapped at the man. <"Shut up Shen! We don't take orders from you! You are a little fish!">

<"Little fish know when to stop swimming! You are outmatched! And the Devil Man may only break our bones and have the authorities haul us off, but the guy in white is insane! He cuts faces off of people!>" Shen pleaded.

Mr. Knight sighed, disappointed that the suit and tie didn't dissuade the man from thinking he was Moon Knight.

"Listen to him. He's an idiot, but he's not wrong. This isn't about any of you. We just want Midnight. Way I see it you have to answer for operating in the Kingpin's city. What he will do to you is bad enough. Don't make me have to think of something...more creative," Mr. Knight said.

The one called Shen stepped forward, hands up in surrender.

<"He..."> he began until he saw got a decent look at Mr. Knight.

Blood still dripping from the once pristine white gloves, Mr. Knight stepped forward shaking his head.

"English, Shen."

"Look, that Jeff guy? He's freaking crazy! Crazier than you two!"

"Debatable. But that doesn't explain what all of this is about or why your people are throwing away their business for him. I need answers Shen. Real answers and real fast. Otherwise my friend here is going to do worse than kill you, worse than remove your faces. He will take your souls," Mr. Knight responded.

"What? He..."

"Why do you think he dresses that way? Why do you think he still lives when the Kingpin has wanted him dead, when assassins, ninjas, and more have tried to end him? You know I serve a higher power. Who do you think he serves?" Mr. Knight bluffed.

Shen gulped and a visible shudder went through some of the others as well. They may not believe in the devil, but they did in devils. What the metaphorical master of the Devil of Hell's Kitchen may call itself didn't matter as much as the fact they believed only someone devoted to something infernal would dress that way. Superstition ran deep with the men.

She stammered, "We owed him. After Kingpin and your pal there drove us out we had to set up show elsewhere. Went to San Francisco for a time but there was a turf war, plus rumor had it a monster was down there eating brains of anyone that it caught out doing things illegal. Turns out even the West Coast has freaks with powers and the like. That's how we met Jeff. He broke up one of our smuggling operations. Came in wearing a black get up sorta like your old clothes, calling himself Midnight. But instead of shutting us down he offered protection against some of the super types. He made sure operations ran smooth, even offed one of the guys in tights, but he wanted something from us."

Placing the truncheon back in its holster and straightening his jacket, Mr. Knight stepped closer to Shen.

"What is it he wanted?" he asked, voice like gravel.

"You. He wanted to know your movements. Got a good laugh out of the news that S.H.I.E.L.D chick cleaned your clock and forced you to register. Beyond that though he wanted toys. Upgrades. Said that some crap about the moon shining so bright it cast out the darkness at midnight so Midnight had to grow darker. We don't deal in that kind of stuff, but we knew people who did. Ever since Osborn was elected President there's been a push to decommission old gear from places like the Vault and to slag any captured tech from villains. But the shipments don't always make it to the sites where they get trashed. Hell, one of 'em got hit a few months ago here in New York. So when stuff goes missing, nobody notices."

Mr. Knight nodded. "Go on."

"We got him a doctor. Real nutjob from the motherland. Guy specializes in adding things to people. But this ain't like a new leg or something. Its more like a mechanic swapping out parts. Even smelled like a garage when he was working on him. And he was awake. Jeff that is. The whole time, no meds, nothing. He even laughed when the Doc started cutting on his jaw, using the blowtorch to fuse stuff in place. It was crazy. Then he just...vanished. Until a week ago. He called us, said he would resume services but only if we came back here. He said Kingpin was gone and everything we've heard backs that up. No sign of the Irish or the Rose or Owl or anyone else moving in, so we thought it was prime real estate again. The tonight he called, claimed he needed one last favor."

"And that was?" Mr. Knight asked.

"You. Distracted. He needed you busy. Said something about visiting old friends, setting up a reunion."

A thousand thoughts ran through his mind and none of them were good. Mr. Knight lunged forward and kicked Shen in the stomach hard enough to make him wretch.

"Where? Where is this reunion? Who is he going after? Is it Frenchie?" Mr. knight yelled, before stomping on the man's hand. "Marlene? WHO IS HE AFTER?"

Shen, in pain and gasping, shook his head. clearly not knowing anything more than he had already said.

[webdevil]

Daredevil's face remained neutral at Mr. Knight's comments. It was good for the reputation to keep criminals of all sort second guessing what he would do to them. He inclined his head with a sharp twist to "stare" at the man and he quickly flinched as Mr. Knight spoke. Slowly, but surely, Mr. Knight began extracting information out of the man. It was almost surreal as the interrogation tactics were nearly identical to his own. Even the hand crunch. Daredevil did not move.

But how long until whatever the hell is wrong in his head decides he needs a bit more brutality than necessary? he thought. He was a Man Without Fear, but it did not mean he didn't care about the safety of others, even criminals. So - hedging his bet, he leaned in on a crouch to the bent over man til he was in his face.

"You have an opportunity here. You can choose to be a good Samaritan and turn yourself in, give evidence and get SHIELD protection. Or you can just sit here playing with yourself with whatever you have left of your hand before Midnight comes back to kill you. But if being a stooge is too much for you, you can tell us what we need to know and check into a hospital within the hour. But fair warning: What state you'll be in by the time you check in is entirely on you,"

Daredevil picked up his billy club and began tapping the floor gently with it. Deciding to take advantage of the situation (and hopefully temper the Knight's murderous side a bit) he looked over.

"Pick him up," he said and began palming the barrel of his billy club in his free hand like a mobster with a baseball bat. He then turned to the Triad, deciding to use a bit of his experience with his old mentor, Stick.

"Did you know if the body is struck in specific spots in specific ways, the soul will slowly leave the body. Perhaps I can show you," he said. This was only half true, as the technique to exploit chakra required a bit more mysticism mumbo jumbo Stick and his allies in the Chaste kept to themselves, but that did not mean he didn't know the precise spots to break a man in ways that could hurt, or make it feel like he is losing all sense of self.

He raised his club.