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A very hard very loud SMACK strikes across Marcus's face, and a very different dark haired women calls Marcus to attention. Jessica Jones, with her alabaster skin, hazel eyes, and dark hair physically seems to be Kendra's match. But the similarities stop there. Her men's leather jacket, faded blue jeans, combat boots, and general Don't Fuck with Me air definitely are no match to the woman of Marcus's dreams.
"Hey!" She shakes him in an action that probably counts as light in Jessica's world, "You need to get the FUCK up!" the ridiculously strong Jones pulls him by the back of his shirt to prompt him to his feet. She leans her head further down the cavern. "We're rather exposed and we gotta find a way to get the fuck out of this place." If only because, "I need a drink." Jess's eyebrows lift.
*
From one dream to another, Marcus this times get a rather rude awakening, not any kind of soft urging, but a rocking sudden impact across his face, causing his eyes to flutter open, blinking wildly. "Huh-what?" The pain of the slap seems a touch a secondary. "What the hell." he grunts, trying to get his bearings. "Where…" When his eyes start to focus, he's a bit taken aback, suddenly realizing he's not in New York. No, this is a craggy, barren wasteland, with black, stormy skies above and various lavaflows cutting angry scars through this barren field he happens to be laying in.
"You. The one with the sign post." he utters, getting backup to his feet, a bit numbly. "Is there anyone else?" he asks, looking around. "How'd we get here?"
*
Jessica releases his collar once he's standing. "Exactly. What. The. Hell," she repeats with emphasis. Her eyebrows punctuate the point and she takes a step away from Marcus. "Yeah, Daredevil and the shape shifting she-devil — who, for the record," she lifts a hand, "is probably at home here — are both here. The bike it entered that thing in Central Park." Her eyes squint at the horizon and she tucks her now-trembling hands into her pockets. She's becoming sober very quickly; a state she hasn't been in about a week.
Her brain hurts behind her eye, but in true Jessica form, she admits to no pain, instead pushing the pain as further anger. "Jones," she states. "Jessica Jones. Who're you?" her eyes narrow slightly, but she's already on the move.
*
"I don't remember." Marcus remarks after a moment, but he looks honestly scared, which is a feat to do, hardened soldier and all. No, not used to this 'whole thing'. Whole thing being meta-humans, mutants, superpowers, world-shaking stuff that he was just another dude in a crowd. "The closer I got the Hellmouth, the less I can really…recall. I don't know why." Yeah, that's a big mystery still. But so are the brands in general. "I remember chasing after you two, who were chasing after her but…hell. You said hell, right? So…" he pauses looking around again at the dark land that's spread out before them. "…are we dead?" Because bad people go to hell, right? That would make sense. Can't say he's done exactly good things.
"Marcus." he finally says, deciding to follow after instead of letting himself stand out here anymore than he already has. "Marcus Renolds. I was just trying to help out that Daredevil guy. Me and the Dragon Lady said we'd help out with the Kitchen, so I had been spending time hunting anything that came out of, er, here." His brands hurt. He doesn't know why, and it almost looks like the veins in his arms are starting glow oddly. Maybe some weird effect of brands being in the Hellmouth.
*
Jessica looks around, and decides resolutely, "No. I might belong here," because it's true, "but Daredevil, for his faults," her voice edges towards sardonic, "doesn't." Her lips purse. "The nasties came from somewhere," she states as her chin lifts to watch the sky above. "Jesus, Renolds, you gotta get out of here." She reaches out to tug at his arm and examine the brands. No question Jessica has no sense of personal space.
Her eyes narrow slightly, "Are you from this place? Because that is weird shit, man."
*
"You seem alright to me." Marcus shrugs. "Though maybe I'm right here with you. Killing Nazis is all well an good an shit, but I'm pretty killing is still killing, no matter how you slice it. Then again, I wasn't much for religion either, so I could be here for that reason too." He considers for a moment, following along. He hasn't noticed the fact that his brands are glowing their appropriate colors yet. Or his arms, at least until Jessica grabs at one of them.
Eyes going wide, he looks at his arm, the veins in his arm glowing odd cerulean color. Not just his arms, but any vein in his neck and head are doing much the same, as if his blood has been replaced with leylines of magic. "I…holy fuck. What's this place doing to me?" he stutters. "No! I'm not! I was human before…this!" he stammers, rubbing at his arm, as if it was some kind of substance on his skin. Nope, it's not. "I was captured by some Nazis called Hydra. They did shit to me, gave me the brands. Other stuff. Kept me chained on some big tablet, which…I guess, kept me asleep for nineteen years. I've only been in New York a couple of months, I swear! I don't know what I am!"
*
Jessica's eyebrows lift. "You just met me. Give it an hour," then Marcus will see what she means. Silently, discerningly, Jones watches Marcus's reactions, and after a few beats, she makes a decision. "We need to get you out of here. Preferably sooner than later," her head turns to watch the horizon in the distance. "We've got to move. I don't like being the middle of nowhere. It exposes us too much. We need to find shelter, some liquor, and a way off this rock." Her hands continue to shiver in her pockets.
*
Marcus looks at the top of his hands, taking note of the glowing veins there too. But he does his best to keep his wits about him, in spite of his new physical development "I feel weird." he states unevenly. Then he shakes his hands, as if that might make the feeling go away. It doesn't. "Wish Strange was here. He might have an idea what's going on." However, there is agreement in getting out of plain sight. "Not a lot of places to go. This place is a waste." he utters kicking a rock away from his booted foot.
"Can barely see shit, everythings damn dark." Nevermind the flashes of lightning in the angry cloud-covered sky or the mountains in the distance that rise out of the earth like jagged claws of some dead titan. Maybe it is a dead titan for all he knows. "I'm fine. I think. Though I'm not really sure demons drink. Maybe? If we're really in hell, I think everyone is supposed to suffer or be in angony or whatever the shit they wrote in Dante's Inferno." Then another pause. "Yeah, just met you but…everyone gets a blank slate."
*
"Not this bitch," Jessica replies about the blank slate. "There isn't enough booze in the world to make that a thing." Her hand clap together and she does another three-sixty-turn to assess the landscape one last time.
"Come on, we'll pick a direction. Back from where we came doesn't seem likely unless we can get that bike fixed." Her cheeks puff out. "The barrier needs momentum to cross it. Seems to go for both ways." She motions towards the dead looking bike on the dark hellish floor.
But we need to at least figure out where we are. We walk bit, we turn and come back," at leas the bike will act like a landmark.
"
*
"You could've left me here to die. You didn't." Marcus says as if that explains just why she's getting said blank slate. With him anyways. "That's enough for me. No one gets left behind." And while that would apply to Murdock and Raven, he didn't see them around. Maybe they went off in seperate directions. So the fact that Jessica stayed with him instead of running off herself, well, that says something. To him. There's an idle rub at his face.
Though when she turns around, she can see that whatever is affecting Marcus' veins in his body has moved to his eyes. His pupils and whites are gone, replaced by a solid cerulean glow, tendrils of magic or energy or somethingwafting away from him. Wherever they are, it's seriously affecting, but if that's good or bad is left up in the air.
"Sounds good. Just, nothing to lead us- wait!" he reaches out to pull Jessica back, jerking her back. An instant later, the ground rumbles, lava bursts out from the ground. That back splash should've hit them, but it doesn't. Instead, it hangs in the air, dripping down, like water running down a pane of glass. She's with him in a bubble a brownish-yellow hue, and he's slowly backing away with her while whatever font of magma begins to settle.
*
"That's all Daredevil," she replies blandly. Although it's impossible to tell if she's being honest or not. "Do not mistake me for some angel. There are no angels in Hell's Kitchen."
Jessica recoils at the touch, even after the presumed rescue. Her hand even rose to protect herself, but instead she mutters her address under her breath, holding onto it like one might a security blanket. And when the bubble seems to settle, she twists to face Marcus. "Try not to touch me." Her jaw tightens, "Everything I touch breaks." Her eyes turn back in one particular direction, "We need to move."
*
"Never said you were one. No, just people. I live in an alley in a box behind a bakery." Marcus remarks, looking the hole that appeared, then peeking at the fire brand under his shirt, not sure how he felt that lava coming. Just did. The sheild falls, falling away with what sounds like the shattering of glass or crunching of twigs.
He sighs, unsure of how to really talk to this particular person. So maybe he'll just say nothing for the time being. That might work better. So he'll just walk. She wants to lead, she can, he's taking his time try to sort things out in his head.
*