10630/The Serpents' Trail

The Serpents' Trail
Date of Scene:	04 January 2020
Location:	Chikara Dojo, Lower East Side
Synopsis:	The Punisher hunts down some information--that happens to be possessed, at least in part, by Danny Rand. It smells like there's something mystical going on.
Cast of Characters:	Iron Fist, Punisher

---

Iron Fist has posed:
The classes for the day have all ended, per the posted hours on the front door. The lights are dimmed and incense is burning on a small holder on a short table near a central column in the otherwise open room.

Danny Rand sits cross-legged inside in front of the short table near the center of the room, eyes closed in meditation. He breathes slowly and calmly.

Thermal imaging doesn't register anyone else in the building, and there doesn't seem to be any sounds betraying others' presence.

Punisher has posed:
The Punisher had waited until everyone had left to start his setup. Drones, traps, and taser mines along with a 'mercy' round drum fitted into the custom M134 mounted in the Battle Van. That last bit was overkill... but with FUCKING MAGIC, you never know if overkill was just enough.

Regardless, he had setup as much as he could for this particular meeting barring setting a stun bomb on the roof, but Punisher was confident he had accounted for most possibilities.

Now, it came down to meeting Danny.

"Keep an eye on the drone feeds. If we get reinforcements from elsewhere, I want to be able to trace their route back." Punisher mentioned to Microchip over comms. A moment later, and the handheld grenade launcher was shouldered, and Danny could hear the sounds of glass breaking. Another moment later, and three grenades land on his dojo floor in rapid succession, filling the entire floor with smoke.

No sense taking chances with these people.

Slipping on his thermal goggles, Punisher put the grenade launcher down, took up his MP7, and shouldered the stock as he opened the entry.

"We need to talk, kid." Punisher grates out in 'greeting'.

Iron Fist has posed:
At the sound of breaking glass--followed by thumps on the floor from the grenades landing and rolling into the dojo space--Danny opens his eyes, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"What the ...?" he begins, catching on that there's smoke quickly filling the room. He tugs at a nearby shirt, putting it to his mouth.

By that point, though, it's a bit too late. He hacks and coughs, his eyes watering. Pulling the shirt over his head just enough to keep it like a poor man's balaclava, Danny assumes a defensive stance, limbs relaxed to adjust his position as needed.

Then, there's a voice. Through narrowed eyes, Danny tries to make out the new arrival. Despite the smoke, the skull is clear enough.

"What ..." Danny coughs out, his voice as confused as it is skeptical, "what do you want?"

Punisher has posed:
A folder filled with copies of the scroll case and the bodies /before/ they were killed fills it. "Any of that yours?" Punisher questions, his MP7 idle against his chest... ready to strike.

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny tenses up momentarily as Frank moves, but after a moment of waiting to see what else might happen, he glances down at the folder.

Slowly, he reaches down for it. Photo after photo is examined briefly.

"No. No. No," he says, flipping through the gang members' pictures.

At the scroll case, he pauses. "No ... but ... hmm." He looks at it more closely and then lifts his head to Frank. "It's not mine. But I've seen it. Well, I've seen something like it."

Danny relaxes slightly, bringing the photo closer to his face. "It's a scroll case with writing from--well, from a place I grew up in. I think it's safe to say that this shouldn't have been anywhere around here. This picture /was/ from around here, right?"

Punisher has posed:
"I came across that case while I was checking out some new gang violence not far from here. A bunch of assholes with serpent tags killed a bunch of assholes from the Burning Tigers, who apparently had that." A small tablet PC is thrown across the floor to Danny, this one with a video of the entire massacre far as Punisher's instruments show it, right down to the camera on the rifle and the shotgun.

"That's a video of the whole thing that I recorded, voices and all. Skip over any of the shit you're squeamish about, if you like." Punisher offers.

Iron Fist has posed:
With a nod, Danny reaches for the tablet and begins watching the video. He skips around a bit here and there--returning to normal play speed when the gang symbols appear and when the scroll case is in view.

"Well," he says, "I'm not sure what's in it. Obviously, it's important enough for these two gangs to want it and to kill each other for it." He scratches at one cheek. "I can tell you what's /supposed/ to be in it."

Danny points to a letter scroll hanging on one wall. "It would look /kind of/ like that. But the case says that it's a philosophical text. I can't make out the whole thing. But it deals with chi. I'd say something about personal improvement by becoming one with yourself."

He sighs. "Of course, that's not something I'd expect these types to find worth killing over. But chi can be focused and harnessed. It can be a weapon."

Danny looks to Frank. "I can show you what that means. I don't want you to see this as a threat--I won't use it against you. But I can show you."

Punisher has posed:
"Any stupid shit, and I'll put you out like a light, kid." Punisher warns him as he starts forward. His MP7 sling is put over a shoulder, and those cold, almost dead eyes of the man once known as Frank Castle look Danny over as he casually makes his way over. "What's it to you?"

Iron Fist has posed:
"Sure. Of course," Danny responds, and he walks toward a wooden dummy. "Stand there and you'll see."

He stands on the balls of his feet, arms close to his body, and takes a deep breath.

Danny's right hand begins to glow brightly, and he strikes out with lightning speed at the dummy.

It explodes upon impact, wooden shards cascading all around the man.

"That," Danny says a moment later, "is what I mean. It's not the kind of thing that you want just anybody to be able to know. Well," he adds, "it's not the kind of thing anyone /can/. There's a lot more to it. But ... if that case contains the kind of text I think it does, then anyone who studies it will become very dangerous."

Punisher has posed:
Punisher stares at the dummy, then looks to the glowing fist. "Great, another fuckin' glow stick, this time in man form." Punisher grates out.

If the exploding dummy got to him at all, he isn't showing it. Instead, he looks right to Danny's eyes. "So a bunch of Serpent tattoo assholes want to figure out how to do that... or at least have access to the text."

Frank looks to the dummy, then back to Danny, "What's the upper limit on materials on that glow stick, kid? Can you punch through anything?"

Iron Fist has posed:
"I'm just guessing here," Danny says, frowning a bit in response to being called a 'glow stick,' "but I'd say ... yeah."

He relaxes his hand, and its glow fades.

"I only learned this after /years/ of study, practice, and trial. If others think they can mass-produce this learning quickly, I want to laugh. But it would be foolish of me to do so. I studied in good faith. Who knows what kinds of tactics are employed by those who won't?" Danny exhales deeply.

"The 'iron fist' can be destructive," he continues, flexing his hand. "I don't want to say it can punch through 'anything' but I haven't found a substance yet that's been impervious to it. Another reason for concern."

Punisher has posed:
"Bows took years of practice and training, usually from birth, and it took strength training to use the serious longbows in the era before firearms... but then crossbows came along, and suddenly any asshole who isn't a cripple could launch bolts at the other guys." Punisher grunts, "could be someones found an effective shortcut to mass produce your brand of magical bullshit."

With the smoke grenades spent, Punisher starts to walk around, collecting the three, "you wouldn't know where that asshole who left with the case is, would you?"

Iron Fist has posed:
"Yeah," Danny says, nodding again. "It could definitely be that. It's not something I'm looking forward to finding out, although ... I recognize I'll--we'll?--need to."

While Punisher collects his grenades, Danny moves to a narrow door and retrieves a broom and dustpan. He begins to sweep up bits of exploded training dummy.

"Sadly," he says, "I've never seen any of those guys before in my life. I /have/ seen someone with a serpent design. Well, a dragon without wings."

Danny pauses mid-sweep to consider something. "The design I'm talking about doesn't really look like that one. But the guy who wears it would be interested in the case's contents, assuming what the case says is in it is in it. I'll see about trying to track him down. We ... we don't get along."

Punisher has posed:
"Most people don't like me, so it's a state I'm familiar with." Punisher notes to Danny. Placing the last spent grenade in his utility satchel, Punisher looks back to Danny, "doesn't matter if someone likes me or not. If this is the start of a magical arms race, I need to get ahead of it." His eyes narrow, a cold, deadly focus coming to them, "which means we should work together. I assume you've got your own contacts and resources for this."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny starts to grin, but he stifles it. "Yeah, you could say that. I don't think--you don't know me, do you? The name's Danny Rand. I've got a pretty wide net I can cast. But you're right," he adds quickly "we should work together. I get the feeling that our contacts probably don't overlap too much."

He takes a deep breath and returns to sweeping the floor. "Clearly, you know where to find me. How do you want me to get in touch with you when I find out something?"

Punisher has posed:
"I just put a number for 'Microchip' in the directory for this phone. If you need to get in touch with Frank, just call it. It'll filter to a secured line I monitor." Comes a masked voice out of the phone.

Punisher glances in that direction, then back to Danny, "I tend to be working on cleaning up New York these days, should I'm never more than a few hours away. Microchip handles all the intelligence work. He can keep me in the loop."

Iron Fist has posed:
"Microchip," Danny repeats. "Got it. I'll make sure to reach out. I assume you're willing to do the same."

He leans on the broom and clears his throat. "I also try to help out. Clean up. Make things better for others. It's my responsibility, after all, as a living weapon." Danny sighs and mumbles to himself: "Saying it like that makes it sound stupid, though ..."

Punisher has posed:
"I was made into one of the best weapons on the planet by the Marine Corps and Force Recon. No shame in it." Punisher gestures around the dojo, "You trained yourself and your focus to better the world around you, right? That's exactly what I do now... I just make sure that those I deal with, stay dealt with." Punisher looks back to Danny, "If you don't mind the killing part of what I do, we'll get along fine. If not, I make custom stun rounds to deal with the squeamish."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny shakes his head slowly. "Death may be inevitable. If we can save lives, I'd prefer to do that. But I'm a warrior. I understand how things sometimes need to go. And if we're up against anyone remotely like the guy I've been thinking of ... there's not going to be much quarter given."

"Especially," he adds, "if he--or whoever--has figured out how to focus their chi in a way like mine /without/ plunging their hands into the molten heart of a dragon." Danny purses his lips for a moment. "That's a part of the traditional approach to this whole thing."

Punisher has posed:
Punisher starts to walk out the front again then. By this time, there are probably onlookers outside, wondering what's going on... and are probably wondering what happened with the trenchcoat and white skull vest wearing man comes out of that fog. No doubt some bystanders scream when they see the Punisher.

For the most part, Punisher just ignores them, and heads around the building, collecting his traps once again, before heading back to the Battle Van, and driving off into the night.

Over the phone, Microchip speaks up. "We'll be in touch."