VENOM ( moon knight.. ) ✔

001 | The Horsemen..

A medieval-old silver coin got tossed into the air by Paul.

It had seen empires fall and rise, met hands of merchants, kings, thieves and tyrants alike, passing from commoners to magicians of the old. Now it twists its shine, rising towards the roof and preparing to fall into a waiting hand, leaving yet another master, who just lost a bet.

But the way it turns... It changes itself as the time passes and as it moves forward... Isn't that a gamble of its own? Many wage their lives on the physics behind the toss of a coin.

Grizzly caught it and dropped it in the pocket of his vest with a smile sneaking under his mustache. It was the smile of a fulfilled winner.

"I saw that," Clara pointed out with a borderline angry voice. She didn't like having to be back there, but it was the partially reasonable thing to do after deciding she needed O.M.N.I.U.M. gone. In the absence of knowing where to find them without being a sitting target first, returning to the bunker and her absolutely dreadful team was a wise decision in the long game.

They had obviously let her in too, because the door leading downstairs opened, most likely triggered by Grizzly, who, at a desk, was sitting behind his favorite accessory, his laptop. It also meant that the men had waited until she got down there to make it clear they waged a bet about her while she was gone.

No shock crept in Clara's chest to know Paul had assumed she wouldn't return. In fact, she made sure he knew her hatred remained, by glaring at him.

"Looking like you're Carrie taking a break from filming a remake Hollywood will love but the world will hate, ay?" Paul grinned.

Grizzly also fixed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then squinted ever so lightly at the sight of the woman, to finally realize it wasn't a new passion for red that she was having, but she was actually drenched in dry blood.

"And is that Steven or one of the others?" Paul spared some attention towards the man walking pointedly close to Clara. Both of them looked like they've been through Hell, on steroids, without sleep and bathroom breaks.

Marc glared sharply at the demon. He was rather certain that, were they to cross paths at any point in the future during the night, when Clara wouldn't be there... he'd most definitely rain justice in Khonshu's name on that bastard. And if he didn't die? Well, Marc knew things worse than death.

"The one you also betrayed in Casablanca," he answered through a snarl.

"You know what they say," Paul inhaled sharply, "what happens in Casablanca, stays in Casablanca. Welcome to the family, laddie." As quick as he was to form his witty reply, Paul also winked.

All over his old features, even in his receding hairline, relief was riddled though. No matter his antics, the demon was a pitifully open book for anyone to read and therefore, it was easy to understand his thankfulness that both of them were back there.

"Honestly though, Clara," Grizzly munched the words from under his mustache, furrowed brows articulating his confused curiosity. "Did you take a shower in blood or something?"

"Just ripped someone in half," she sighed.

"Wicked," Paul murmured, in approval.

"It has been a pretty long night." To that statement, she had to side-glance Marc, a quick reassurance that he was still there and she didn't just go completely mad, unable to process his demise -Venom may have watched one too many movies to give her that untrustworthy thought to worry about too-. Alas, her quick glance ended and she looked back at Grizzly, "Which sort of settles it for me that I'm never coming back to Morocco after this shit."