1508/Danny and Daken in Hell's Kitchen

Danny and Daken in Hell's Kitchen
Date of Scene:	17 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Iron Fist, Daken

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Iron Fist has posed:
Danny Rand stands at the foot of a small office building that once housed a flower shop on its first floor. The shop is dark now, shut after a recent violent event that blossomed from the heart of the building. It was in the papers, briefly, then forgotten. Well, almost. Danny remembers.

He's in a summer suit - tan and white and paired with loafers worn without socks - just contemplating the scene as a steady stream of people move about him. Not enough to call the streets crowded, but it's New York and so people abound. After a moment, he turns and eyes another building down the street, home to a certain private eye he met recently.

A call comes through, interrupting his mindful moment, and he reaches into his suit pocket to take it.

Daken has posed:
It's not stealthy, the way Daken comes up. For whatever reason, he's here at the very same building, at the exact same time as Danny. And once he recognizes the man, he comes closer and doesn't stop his approach from behind until he's practically hanging off him. He doesn't say anything, since there's a phonecall starting...but he probably doesn't need to. His presence, his posture, the pleased expression on his face all say one thing:

Hi, I missed you.

Iron Fist has posed:
The call is a quick one, Danny not being one to linger on the phone. Meeting in the morning? Check. Coffee or tea? Both. Why the bother? It's only a top Oscorp represetative, Danny. Well, in that case...

Eventually, the young CEO does turn around, but it isn't with a look of surprise that he greets Daken, but one of bemusement.

"Oh, it's you again," he says, stuffing his phone away. "Do you always breathe down people's necks like that?" Despite the invasive stance of someone who is still pretty much a stranger, Danny smiles.

Daken has posed:
Daken smiles back, or rather was smiling initially and only spreads that smile as he finally gets to see Danny's face. He spreads out his arms, not so much as a hug offer -- though he'll happily take it -- as one of harmlessness, peaceful lack of any kind of threat. "Only the ones I like," he replies, shirt completely unbuttoned and drifting in the breeze as he stands there. It's a hot day. "I have no idea how you wear so many layers. I just want to take off everything and go dive in the first pond I see."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny looks down at what he's wearing. It's linen and breathable, but it suddenly looks to be too much. Stuffy, even. As such, his smile has faded when his gaze wanders back up to Daken. Then it tugs its way back onto his face, first one side, then the other. And he starts walking, down the sidewalk, fully expecting Daken to follow along.

"I know what you mean," he begins. "Back in K'un-Lun, where I did my study abroad, there was a big, beautilful lake we all jumped in the first time any of us broke a sweat. Here it's all concrete pools, but I guess they do the trick."

Daken has posed:
Daken's smile always seems to bright and genuine, it's easy to get caught up in. Not slightly because of his pheromones, which make sharing any emotion -- or being urged into others -- much easier, but because he seems to really sell the feeling when he appears to feel it genuinely.

When Danny starts walking, Daken waits for him to get a few steps along and then catches him up, bump his shoulder against Danny's nearest shoulder as he goes. "K'un-Lun. I've never been there." He takes a few more steps, people naturally, almost instinctively, getting out of their way. "Tell me about it. You're always so interesting."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny chuckles at the shoulder bump and shrugs. "Yeah, most people don't get around to it. It's sort of out of the way."

As the two continue on, Danny feels the odd emotional strength coming off of Daken. Feels it in his chi, like a throbbing mass. He can't help but reciprocate with his own chi-motional waves. That and the pheromones create a very unique environment for Danny to walk among.

"I don't know how interesting I am. The papers sensationalize things." Even he doesn't seem to believe that first part, so he changes the subject. "What are we doing tonight?"

Daken has posed:
"I don't read the papers that much." Daken looks around them, catching the eye of a couple of people as he does. A couple of them gaze back, some look very confused, and others try to pretend like they weren't looking at all in the first place. "All I really know is that you bought me a delicious lunch, and you have an incredible aura."

It's intoxicating, especially to Daken, who doesn't usually come up against anyone with a similar ability. The chi is something that he knows he likes, but especially when it's Danny's way of doing things. He's practically radiant like his own star. Mr. Sunshine, or something. "We could fight. We could find some pool, fling our clothes everywhere, and swim. There's always the standard stuff, like movies and food, but...I want something I can't get anywhere else. Time with you, specifically."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny blinks a couple of times before responding. Lots of people have treated him many different ways since he returned to the city and his father's company, but few like Daken seems to be. Like a friend. It's not the easiest thing to deal with, especially since he came here looking for just that, and was met with nothing.

Eventually, though, Danny does respond. "Fight? I don't think you want to fight me. Let's try the pool idea. It's summer, there's bound to be a roof with some water on it."

Daken has posed:
"Oh no," Daken counters, "I want to fight you. I want to fight you so bad I can *taste* it." He's still grinning, though. He's probably talking about sparring. It's likely a reasonable enough assumption, even though he seems pretty resolute about it. "But I'm all about finding some water and getting in it. You lead the way, and I'm your faithful follower!"

Then he moves so quickly and lightly, sort of hopping and prancing around Danny and reaching out to not quite poke at him, but a sort of light touch, almost a tickle. He laughs as he does it, clearly good-natured when he moves...maybe gauging his ability more than he lets on, but not...serious about it. For once.

Iron Fist has posed:
"Why do you want to fight me? Who says that?" Danny smirks and watches the strange man move around him. A stray idea - that perhaps he's befrinded a drug addict or insane person - creeps into his mind, but he discards it because he hasn't caught that vibe from Daken. No, he reminds him more of some of the more free-spirited monks-in-training he knew in K'un-Lun.

"Anyway, um, yeah follow me, I guess." He starts to walk a little faster, making his way back to his apartment building.

Daken has posed:
Daken hurries behind Danny. "Because I can tell, you move like a fighter. I wanna see what you can do." He does come off, maybe at his best, as one of those monks might. Always looking to improve his technique. Always trying to take on the best opponents, so he can learn from them. "I'm always learning. Getting better."

Once they're there, Daken lets Danny lead wherever he wants, and he remains only a step or two behind at any given time. He moves so lightly, it might as well be a dance to him -- one he's mastered the choreography to, and he never seems to step anywhere but where he means to. "I warned you, you fed me...stray dogs stick with you when you do that."

Iron Fist has posed:
Danny thinks about how much he wants to tell Daken about all this fighting the guy is so interested in. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to open up. "Where do you train?" he asks as they walk up to his building.

It's a skyscraper apartment building with a doorman and everything. Very hip and posh, probably full of young power couples sipping wine on their terraces with friends right about now. "Just wipe your feet at the door," Danny says, grinning.

The two ride the elevator up and eventually end up in the apartment. It's a nice, clean, open space with plenty of windows, nice furniture, and art. None of it decorated by Danny, but Daken won't know that. "Make yourself at home."

Daken has posed:
"Anywhere I can," Daken replies, plainly as always. He seems that way, like a free spirit, taking what he can get. He did say he had been wandering, so maybe that's what happened: he wanders along and doesn't have a consistent place to train. Maybe circumstances dictate whether or not he even gets to, as much as he'd like to. It's hard to gauge his ability without directly engaging him.

In these posh surroundings, Daken looks totally at ease. He even fits in, with his designer, well-cut, and obviously tailored clothes. He waits in the elevator, grinning back at Danny, waiting for it to rise, but not getting far from him. He doesn't wait on the other side of the car, though the close quarters make it even easier for his pheromones to saturate the air around them...and probably the chi to do the same.

Once they get to the right floor, Daken's right behind Danny, into the apartment, and he not only wipes his boots at the door, he takes them off and walks barefoot in, treating it like a natural, incidental practice. "I like your space. It's like you."

Iron Fist has posed:
"Is it? Then I'm lucky," Danny says, padding barefoot across the floors, "because it came this way."

He hangs his suit jacket on a hook near the door and starts to unbutton his shirtsleeves. "Want something to drink? Or maybe a swimsuit? Do you even have one?" He chuckles and wanders to the open kitchen, skirting the island in the middle for the refrigerator at the far end.

"If we're quick we can catch the sunset."

Iron Fist has posed:
Iron Fist offers to take Luke out to lunch, forgets his wallet.