[Starter] Marc Spector
Anyone who thought the night was a quiet time had never been to New York. The urban jungle was a tangle of noises. A baby cried, and was sung to by his mother, their voices floating out the open window. A car horn blared as the last two cars on an otherwise deserted street managed to get in each other's way. Bottles clinked, and men laughed, coming out a basement bar to stagger to their respective homes. An ambulance siren wailed. Dogs barked. Cats yowled.
A woman shrieked.
Moon Knight's head whipped around, called to action by the terrified cry. He moved silently as a ghost, the white cape giving the impression of the same as he moved across the rooftops.
A man, a woman, and a boy were held at gunpoint in the alley below. The thug was most likely lured to them by the flash of white at her neck: a single strand of pearls. The man tried to insert himself between the thug and his lady, but the thug wasn't having any. He levelled the pistol, giving his one and only warning. The man stood firm. The woman quailed. The boy froze.
The thug crunched.
Moon Knight rose from the alley floor, and stepped off of the thug. He'd live, but regaining the use of his legs would be a long, slow, painful road.
"Who are you?" the man managed to ask.
"A guardian of those who travel at night," Moon Knight replied, his voice like gravel. "Stay out of dark alleys next time."
He took the gun, which lay near the thug's twitching fingers, and it vanished into the folds of his cloak. Then he turned to depart, leaving the young family to continue on their way. Only the gods knew what might have happened if Moon Knight had not been there to protect them. But tonight, the gods weren't talking.
Some nights, they wouldn't shut up.