"We'll have that conversation when I've thought about your offer."
It's not coy, it's matter of fact and where Joker's gaze sharpens, Marc's doesn't alter. Remains expectant and watchful.
Marc is — contrary to some expectations, fully human. There are no special abilities, no powers, no anythings beyond training courtesy of the Marines, the CIA, of Bushman himself. Nothing that means he doesn't wake most evenings (not mornings, still up, still awake in the early hours—) sore and in pain. Nothing that meant he hadn't spent months futilely begging and pleading and cursing Khonshu's statue. Questioning because hadn't he done everything that'd been asked of him? It was never anything that physical therapy couldn't fix, but Marc's never really been one for fixes. The idea of being broken—.
Well, he's quite used to that.
It's not about how many times you can hit the other guy, he's found, it's about how far you're willing to go. It's about how many times they can hit you and you can make yourself stand back up before they give up.
Marc is of the opinion that he's less interesting these days than he has been, 'interesting' a cute little euphemism for 'unpredictable'. Less prone — for now, apparently, at least in the opinion of the Avengers — to face carving and mutilation; to pushing people off buildings. To flying helicpoters into buildings to get one guy. To trying to take over the world because his god said it'd be a good idea.
All Marc has is stubbornness, a willingness to accept pain as standard. Expected. Not only part of the job but a part of his life and a kind of pleasure found in the knowledge that some of the time, he needn't even bother. By now, the majority of criminals that come up against him have reached the conclusion that it'll end one of three ways for them — faceless, dead, or imprisoned, and few have a desire to test their luck.
But it doesn't mean he won't do what he considers necessary: threatening to treat his enemies as Osiris had been treated. Locking them in inescapable spheres. Dangling them over car shredders.
"The Middle East. South America. Africa." A beat. "I've spent a lot of time with a lot of people, Joker. I've learned a thing or two, is all. None of it anything my god frowns upon.
no subject
It's not coy, it's matter of fact and where Joker's gaze sharpens, Marc's doesn't alter. Remains expectant and watchful.
Marc is — contrary to some expectations, fully human. There are no special abilities, no powers, no anythings beyond training courtesy of the Marines, the CIA, of Bushman himself. Nothing that means he doesn't wake most evenings (not mornings, still up, still awake in the early hours—) sore and in pain. Nothing that meant he hadn't spent months futilely begging and pleading and cursing Khonshu's statue. Questioning because hadn't he done everything that'd been asked of him? It was never anything that physical therapy couldn't fix, but Marc's never really been one for fixes. The idea of being broken—.
Well, he's quite used to that.
It's not about how many times you can hit the other guy, he's found, it's about how far you're willing to go. It's about how many times they can hit you and you can make yourself stand back up before they give up.
Marc is of the opinion that he's less interesting these days than he has been, 'interesting' a cute little euphemism for 'unpredictable'. Less prone — for now, apparently, at least in the opinion of the Avengers — to face carving and mutilation; to pushing people off buildings. To flying helicpoters into buildings to get one guy. To trying to take over the world because his god said it'd be a good idea.
All Marc has is stubbornness, a willingness to accept pain as standard. Expected. Not only part of the job but a part of his life and a kind of pleasure found in the knowledge that some of the time, he needn't even bother. By now, the majority of criminals that come up against him have reached the conclusion that it'll end one of three ways for them — faceless, dead, or imprisoned, and few have a desire to test their luck.
But it doesn't mean he won't do what he considers necessary: threatening to treat his enemies as Osiris had been treated. Locking them in inescapable spheres. Dangling them over car shredders.
"The Middle East. South America. Africa." A beat. "I've spent a lot of time with a lot of people, Joker. I've learned a thing or two, is all. None of it anything my god frowns upon.
"I'll think on it, and you think on it."