First of all, I LOVE the way you've depicted John, with how tall he is and also that he's kindof just a cloak encompassing Arthur, the slight way he's wrapped around him is SO GOOD and the way the fabric drapes from his head over Arthur's is incredible, this is HIS HUMAN GODDAMNIT!!!
And that John is easily the brightest thing in the picture, he is part of a god that isn't supposed to be here and he Sticks Out
I also love the marks on the wall behind them, with the black tendrils behind John, the glowing eyes and crown by Jon, and the muted fog behind Martin
And imagine being Jon in this situation: he almost looks like he's stuck here on this makeshift altar playing at apocalypse google; he's got short sleeves and long hair and no shoes and Martin can leave all he wants, can come and go freely but chooses over and over to come back to him, to sit at his back as both a facade of protection, pointlessly watching the back of a man who sees all, and a supportive strength, lending warmth as his boyfriend converses with the scraggly man with a strange glint of gold in his eyes.
He Knows when Arthur is brought here, of course he does, this is his job now, his purpose is to Know and See everything that goes on in this world. He Watches them walk up, and when the scraggly man reaches about twice as far away as a normal human could see, Jon Sees a nauseating shimmer of yellow around him and eyes that are taken over by gold and black.
By the time they reach the door, Jon has been looking upon the visage of a foreign god for quite a while now.
He closes his eyes. More blink open across his skin. He is Argus, hundred-eyed, ever-watchful, bound in service to a god.
Arthur Lester enters, muttering to hi- well. Muttering to the god in his head and wrapped around his bones. The yellow-cloaked figure dogging his steps responds in a voice that tugs at Jon's mind.
He catches his own name in the whispers, and the Eye informs him the piece of the King has named himself John Doe. What irony.
He curls up, reaching a hand back to Martin's leg as if for reassurance, and Arthur leans on the altar before him. He is scarred, heavily so, but the Eye will not look between the shifting robes to tell him whether his marks number more than Jon's. Even the little bit he can see of the figure beneath the swirling yellow twists at him.
Martin sips his tea. Jon Knows he can't see just how strange the man before them really is.
Arthur wants to know how to leave. Jon does too.