[center][img]https://i2.wp.com/cdn.pastemagazine.com/www/articles/2014/08/08/MOONKNIGHT_Main.jpg [/img][/center]
[center][h1][color=black]M o o n[/color]  [color=white]K n i g h t[/color]  [/h1][/center]
[right][h3][b]By Moonlight[/b][/h3][/right]
Marc strode softly through the darkened halls of the Spector Innovations Building, fingers tracing along the newly refurbished walls. He’d bought up the old building in Queens, renovated the base structure, installed brand, new modern systems for ICT and small-scale manufacturing. The offices were ink black, except for the threads of white light streaming through some of the windows. Marc stepped into the manufacturing area. Only a number of hours ago, the place had been abuzz with vibrant activity.

[h3]Earlier, By Daylight[/h3]
 A dozen people were clambering and rushing excitedly between stations, pointing to complex diagrams and lengthy equations, discussing complex ideas and concepts hurriedly while their eyes glanced over at “Mister Spector”. Marc chuckled to himself, not being able to get over the fact he was the Boss around here. Marc looked down at the manifesto, the list of new materials for all of the new entrant projects they were funding. He looked back up and found his Director of Operations standing just a foot from him, eyebrows raised over his hazel eyes. He was one of the few men in Marc’s circle who was able to stand face-to-face with him. Jean-Paul DuChamp’s jet black hair sat untidily on his head as he looked down at the manifesto and back to Marc.
[indent][color=orange]”Reviewing the inventory, Mister Spector? Planning to expand it further?”[/color][/indent]
The heavy twang of sarcasm dripped from Jean-Paul’s words, with a tiny smirk curling on his lips. The French accent was but a tiny hint in his voice, with years of foreign living and exotic travels muddying his dialect of English.
[indent][color=yellow] ”Well Frenchie, we’re a frail, growing company. We need to accumulate the necessary resources if we want to compete in this fluctuating market…” [/color][/indent]
[indent][color=orange]”Like micro-triggers? Thin weave Kevlar, a large amount of carbodium? Did you see the price tag on that order? Mon dieu Marc!”[/color][/indent]
Marc raised his own eyebrow now. When Frenchie began spluttering French at him, he knew he’d struck a nerve.
[indent][color=yellow]”Frenchie, we’re a company of innovations. That means we need the best tech and resources. The thin weave and carbodium are for a new project by young Hudson. He’s developing a cheap alternative of simple Kevlar vests for the police. A full protective, lightweight suit for officers on the ground. Military contracts without the military, Frenchie. Especially in these dangerous times, with the rise of these meta-humans and mutants, our men and women in blue need to be better protected!”[/color][/indent]
Frenchie stared at Marc, stunned by his rousing speech, before cracking a smile and smacking Marc on the shoulder, [color=orange]”Alright Marc, whatever you’ve got cooking up, just make sure it’s all legal. I like my job and don’t fancy taking over this whole [i]fiesta[/i].”[/color]
Frenchie walked over to one of the project leaders, shaking his head and chuckling. Marc smiled after him, calling after him, [color=yellow]”Don’t forget to try and get a meeting with Stark. I want his opinion on the new omni-directional drone. See if we can’t get a shared patent on this thing…”[/color]

[right][h3][b]By Moonlight[/b][/h3][/right]
Marc stepped onto the manufacturing floor, towards Hudson’s work area, flicking on his terminal, waiting for the Stark logo to disappear before bringing up the Projects folder and the schematics for the carbodium-infused thin weave Kevlar suits. Somewhere, in the back of Marc’s mind, a tiny Voice whispered to him,
[indent][color=red]”The perfect suit for a knight of Khonshu…”[/color][/indent]