New York City,
Chinatown
The Wrong NeighborhoodDanny was pretty sure what he was looking at was some rundown, disturbingly soiled alley in Chinatown instead of a bar, but when he asked about it the old man who called himself Orson seemed to cling to his own sense of mystery like it was a cane keeping him standing. Danny definitely hoped they weren't drinking here, he was pretty sure one of the rats he'd seen scurrying off was as big as some humans and the door they were standing in front of now was stained with what he was hoping was rust. Fear of enclosed spaces wasn't natural to him, but this alleyway truly made him feel like the walls were leaning in. They pressed up against him like his tormentors at school and gave him a distinct feeling of '
you do not belong here, move on' that went beyond his discomfort at the feeling of griminess that seemed to float through the air and settle on every surface like some sort of corrupted psychic snowfall.
Orson for his part seemed completely at home, whistling a little tune Danny couldn't place as he strode right up to the door with a little bit of dance to his movements. He knocked out a pattern on the door like he expected to be welcomed in, a big grin on his face even as a pair of hostile eyes came into view with the little metallic clack of a shutter being opened. Danny hung back, instinctively shrinking from those eyes as they darted around like the pupils wanted to break free from the whites in pursuit of their own ocular dreams before settling on Orson and narrowing down with knife-like sharpness. A voice, slightly raspy and muffled behind the door's metal but identifiable as human:
"Who knocks thrice upon the shady mansion gate?"
Orson's voice had the tone of long practiced ritual on it to Danny's ears, as solemn and memorized as any of the Thunderer's teachings:
"One who sees his reflection in the lakes and rivers."A pause then as Danny held his breath expectantly though he didn't know exactly what he was waiting for except that he knew that something was going on. Despite his confusion the younger Iron Fist waited for the result.
"Are you shitting me, old man? Listen up grandpa, I dunno how long you've been out of the game for but you can't just go around throwing out sixty year old code responses and expect to get anywhere! You and junior over there are lucky I don't get some guys to beat you both senseless! and another thing-"
Orson just sighed and raised his hand in response to the doorkeeper's irritated tirade, a phantasmal greenish light filling the alley as he made the movement. Danny crept forward again and strained to see exactly what it was his apparent predecessor was doing as a soft, serpentine hiss altogether different from the incendiary crackle of the Iron Fist technique arose with the glow. He saw Orson's fingers weave through complex patterns, the legs of a spider dancing at the center of a web of light. He spoke in a calm, measured voice as his fingers continued to flutter through a pattern of luminescent hand-signs the likes of which Danny had never seen
"You're mistaken. Our credentials are in order, aren't you happy to see us?"The voice answered back, this time oddly flat and emotionless.
"Oh, of course. Please come in, honored elder."
The strange feeling of unease faded away as the door opened wide to reveal...well, not much. The doorkeeper was dressed like an old-fashioned east asian stage hand or maybe a ninja, the tight full-body black cloth outfit still revealing nothing but his glassed over eyes. Behind him was just a cement staircase that spiraled downward with no real illumination, though a muddle of faint but raucous sounds drifted up from it to Danny's ears. Orson strode in slightly angrier now, muttering under his breath as he started down the spiraling descent into darkness. Danny felt his way along the damp wall more cautiously, though he was left more disoriented by everything he'd just witnessed than any shadowed stairway.
"Orson? Orson what's going? Secret code phrases, some sort of underground speakeasy in Chinatown, and what about that mystical hypnosis thing with your hand?"Danny received no reply, only the echo of their footsteps on cement steps and the ruckus from below growing louder and more distinct.
"Orson seriously, what is all this?"Orson's footsteps stopped and Danny could only guess they'd reached the doorway, though in the darkness all he could see was the back of the old man's coat. He did speak up then, over the creak of the door being opened.
"Ain't it obvious? It's your first step into a wider world, kid."A sudden flood of light and stinging smoke assaulted Danny's eyes and left him temporarily blind as his vision adjusted from the empty darkness of the entryway, but even without vision the rooms laid out before him were striking.
With the door no longer muffling noise he could follow currents in the ocean of sound. Chatter and yelling in half a dozen or more languages filled his ears, the glottal twang of Cantonese interspersed with more crisply clipped yet harsh Mandarin and even the flowing singsong of the K'un-L'un dialects were recognizable, though occasional slips into English stood out to him most readily. Dice clattered in bowls and tiles clacked down on tables to shouts of victory or defeat and somewhere further off food sizzled. Beyond all of that flowed the notes of some piece for an
erhu and
guzheng duet from a distant corner, serenity in the midst of all the cacophony.
A further step inside and he was surrounded by smells, beginning with the pungent smoke that seemed to fill his brain up with fuzz until he willed it away with the Thunderer's training. There was more in the air than the haze of drugs. The char of sizzling meat, the cleaner smoke of open flame, the accent of more spices and perfumes than he could name or number all drifted through the room. Without even being able to see, he felt like he'd suddenly moved several centuries and half a world away from New York City. It felt...comfortable in a way that life just hadn't since he'd left K'un-L'un.
He blinked tears away for more than one reason as his sight returned, showing him a room brightly lit with electric lighting despite the smoke that hung in the air and a decor that looked like a Qing dynasty gambling hall fused with a teahouse, or to Danny's mind something out of the seedier portions of K'un-L'un that he'd sneaked a look at as a young child. Servants in black qipao and changshan with faces concealed by silver masks drifted from table to table taking orders and delivering food, tea and alcohol bustling between the main area and a pair of continuously swinging kitchen doors. In the far right corner a pair of similarly masked musicians played as he'd pictured them while customers came and went through a large doorway in the back covered by red and gold curtains that seemed to be the source of most of the smoke, shouting and sounds of gambling.
Orson had already taken a seat at the center of the room and started signaling to the masked attendants, though instead of waving Danny over he pointed over Danny's left shoulder. The boy turned to see that the wall was taken up by a series of racks holding golden masks similar to the ones worn by the staff, nodding to Orson as he slipped one over his face. they'd been lucky so far that no one had recognized him as a public figure. The heir to a multi-billion dollar conglomerate showing up in a place like this would probably raise some eyebrows. Besides, it might not have been the Iron Fist mask, but it was close enough to feel comfortable to him. He took a seat to Orson's right at the table as the old man started signaling to a waiter that glided over with steps that were conspicuously silent even through all the noise. As Orson ordered Danny looked around still rather amazed at his surroundings.
"Don't even offer, No booze. but gimme peach juice, I'm an old man who's gotta watch his health y'know."The silvered face nodded "Very good, and for the Young Master?"
"Get the kid jasmine tea, he'll need to steady his nerves for the night ahead. A whole pot's worth, not just a cup, after all ya never know."The waiter departed and Orson started taking tooth-picks out of a container at their table and laying them out in different ways, snapping some and placing the fragments just so, apparently bored enough to play games despite studying the pattern he was making with razor focus. His indifference in the face of Danny's obvious curiosity at everything frustrated the younger man, so naturally he started pelting him with questions again.
"Seriously, there's just some secret...what, kung fu social club hidden in New York that I don't know about? Are there other places like this? Besides that, what are we doing here? I mean I know we're finding a fragment of the stone, but how? and-"Orson held up a hand.
"Look, I can't exactly explain all the nuances of several centuries worth of secret societies and history to ya in one go kid but I can see I'm not gonna get any peace until I dole out some wisdom so here's the basics. Between the world where you've been gettin' your head dunked in toilets by punks ya could kill six ways from Sunday and the other world where they treat ya like a mix between a grand-high prince and a slave just 'cause ya beat one dragon in a fistfight, there's a middle ground. It's got a whole mess of names. The Jianghu, The Wulin, the Martial Brotherhood, the Heroes' Hall, whatever you call it it's more or less the same thing. Some of us might wear masks, go by fancy names like you and me but we aren't the same as the 'capes and underoos on the outside' crowd even if we get involved with 'em nowadays. We're older than that, much older and we have our own rules, our own culture, our own traditions. Places like this are a gathering spot for those that belong in our world, not just in New York but worldwide. All the sorcerers, the ghosts, the demons, the ancient kung fu vendettas and secrets within secrets, ya didn't leave 'em behind when you left K'un-L'un. It's just here the ninjas might spent their off-hours as lawyers and sometimes the demons pack guns." If Danny thought he was overwhelmed by his situation before, his head was really spinning now, his whole notion of the world turned on its' head. Obviously he'd known that the mortal world had magic and monsters and superhuman heroes of its' own, but this was different. This was a world he could understand, where he might even
belong, right here under his nose. For the first time in a long time he felt...hope, even happiness. If this was the world he needed to hunt through in order to find his father's killers then maybe it really was possible, maybe he hadn't given up immortality in paradise for nothing. Maybe there could even be a real life for him, both as Danny Rand and Iron Fist.
"But...why didn't the Thunderer and the Yu-Ti tell me about any of this?"Orson frowned at his young masked accomplice as he set another toothpick down
"There's...a lot they haven't told you about, Danny. The hypnotic technique, me being alive, all this is only the start of it. For one thing-""Orson Rand you old warhorse!"Danny looked back towards the curtains to see a man with Chinese features wearing an odd red and black jumpsuit, grinning from ear to ear as he approached them. There was something...very, very familiar about the man's features to Danny though for the life of him he was sure he'd never seen him before. Beyond the odd sense of familiarity, Danny noticed the way the man moved. Even just while walking across the room he displayed perfect economy of motion, effortless grace and readiness. Danny had never seen anything like it and he had learned from Lei-Kung and other immortals with centuries if not millenniums of training and experience. Orson didn't stand to greet the newcomer, but he did go from grimace to grin at the sight of him.
"Shang Chi you unchanging bastard, the years've been too good to ya! So I'm guessing ya got my message about the ah..." Orson pointed down at the table and Danny's gaze followed his finger to the mess of toothpicks on the tabletop for the first time. For an instant he was shocked to see that rather than some careless idly placed jumble or game, the little fragments had been carefully arranged in the shape of the personal sigil of Lei-Kung the Thunderer. That quick glimpse was all the young martial artist was able to get as Orson's hand swiped across the table with speed Danny hadn't thought him capable of as soon as he got a terse nod from the new arrival.
"It should all be arranged. I take it this is the boy you told me about?" He turned to regard Danny with an easygoing smile
"Welcome to a strange new world, you can call me Brother Shang. A companion of Orson's is a companion of mine. I'm in New York fairly often, so be sure to seek me out if you ever need help in the future alright? But for now-"Orson stood up abruptly
"For now he and I have a deal to finalize and details to go over. Stay here and stay outta trouble, kid. Just...treat things like K'un-L'un and you should be fine."Danny was definitely annoyed at having his questions cut off and being left out of whatever it was they were planning, but as the two men walked off toward the rowdiness in the back he figured he might as well just wait and find out once they were done. There was no sense risking his one shot at moving toward revenge, after all. Instead he waited for the tea to arrive, sipping on it while enjoying the homey if lively atmosphere of the odd club and contemplating all that Orson had revealed so far and what the old man's very existence implied for everything he thought he knew about his life, his father and K'un-L'un.
He was lost in thought like that until an astonishingly immense set of hands clapped down on the table from behind him. Cursing himself internally for becoming so distracted Danny looked back and up at a massive ogre of a man, close enough that Danny could not only feel the heat of his breath but unfortunately the stench of it too. His face was red with rage and his mustache flared as he bellowed:
"Boy, you sit at the table of Khumballa The Mountain, Champion of the wrestling pits of Halwan! Remove yourself or be crushed!"Danny had had just about enough of being ordered around without explanation lately, it was bad enough when Orson had done it let alone some big thug.
"Are you going to sit at the table or eat it? If it's the first one you're welcome to join me, though with an ass as fat as yours I can see why you'd need all four chairs. I guess if nothing else the tea might improve your reeking bre-aack!"The strangled noise was caused by both hands and the python-like arms they were attached to suddenly wrapping around Danny's torso in a grip that would have quickly cracked the boy's ribs if he had reinforced himself with qi an instant slower. Danny whipped his head back to crack into the big wrestler's face with a satisfying crunch that left a warm little spray of blood on the back of his head and made the larger man yowl with pain and drop him. As he whirled around and caught his opponent in the side of the head with an elbow that cut across his already battered face, Danny was still struggling to catch his breath. Because of that his strikes lacked force and speed and Khumballa caught the driving punch of the followup Ram's Head Blow that should have felled him in his own massive fist. He pulled the younger and smaller martial artist into another crushing grip, though Danny wasn't sure if strangulation or stench was the bigger threat, pressed as he was into unenviable levels of closeness to the big man's chest. He attempted knee strikes, foot stomps, trips and even nerve strikes to the shins with his feet despite having his arms pinned but it was like wrestling with an elephant. As darkness started closing in and oxygen became a distant memory Danny began to reach for his qi to take the fight to the next level, though he worried about accidentally killing the big bruiser.
"Now boy, you will meet your end in my Grip of Death. It is too good a death for you, but-"
Whatever Khumballa was going to say next was drowned out in a shower of ceramics, hissing hot tea on flesh and nasally howling as he released Danny, clutching at his even further ruined face.
"I toldja you'd need the whole pot for your nerves kid!" Orson had apparently crept up from behind, snatched up the teapot and smashed it and its contents into the wrestling champion's face in defiance of every conception of honor. The younger Iron Fist watched with a mix of admiration and disgust as, Without waiting for the big brawler to recover Orson picked up a chair from another table, broke it over Khumballa's head to drive him to his knees and finished him off with a perfectly executed version of Danny's failed Ram's head blow to the back of the skull. The punch sent him slumping unconscious if not dead onto the table he'd angrily claimed.
"Now that is how ya win a bar fight. Consider that lesson one. When I said treat the place like K'un-L'un I didn't mean get into fights with the locals and treat it like one of Lei-Kung's duels. Now c'mon, now that I've already taken you and this dope to school, we're going on a field trip."Orson stalked out as Danny looked around at the bits of chair and teapot, the collapsed thug and the shocked patrons and staff alike before taking out his wallet. He casually took out a small stack of hundreds and slapped them down at the table.
"Some of it's for dinner but most of it's for the show. Looking forward to coming back again!"Danny followed Orson out in a hurry past the once again hypnotized door guard, dropping the mask as he went.
"So where are we going now?"Orson turned to look at the boy with the sort of smile that said he was once again clinging to secrets
"Liberty Island. Right after we change, Shang Chi said to expect assassins and maybe a dragon so y'know...make sure to dress appropriately."For the first time in what felt like forever, Danny realized that he was smiling too.
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