Summary:The Green Arrow and the Iron Fist turn a human trafficking bust into a date. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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Chinatown. It's not exactly the dangerous place it used to be, but where in New York is these days? The lights are brighter, the police are more present, and especially on a Saturday night, sometimes the tourist outnumber the locals. But if you go deep enough in, there are always the shadows.
The market is a bustling place early in the morning, but once the day's catch and all the fresh goods have been sold out, it gets a little less friendly. The deals late at night are for far less legal commodities. Including, tonight, a trade in humanity.
A ramshackle warehouse is 'home' to a quiet ring of human smugglers, luring people to the states with the promise of a better life, only to tell them upon arrival that their debt for the transit is insurmountable. Some go into day labor, some into house work. Some into even less savory work.
Danielle got a tip from a discrepany in Rand's books, so she's come to do what she can. She crouches on a rooftop across from the warehouse, the golden mask and gold and green of the Iron Fist her uniform despite the bright colors.
Ollie isn't exactly a fan of human trafficking. Well, that's a silly thing to say. Only human traffickers tend to be fans of human trafficking. Either way, he heard about this place through a few of his contacts. He has issues with people taking advantage of the disenfranchised, so something like this really gets his goat.
Dressed in his Robin Hoodesque costume (with matching domino mask), the Green Arrow crouches on a different rooftop. He squints down at the backdoor to the places, pondering it for a moment or two before glancing over the various windows and judging the other entrance points of the place. He adjusts his grip on his compound bow as he reaches back into his quiver and withdraws an arrow.
The arrow has a small canister attached to the head of it. He takes aim and lets loose, the arrow shooting through the air to perfectly thunk into the door an inch over the locked handle. The canister opens on a time-release, letting out a stream of powerful, but limited acid. Within seconds the lock and handle are gone. He nods a bit to himself and glances about, preparing to drop down.
What the…
Danny is half-way down a fire escape when she hears the thunk of the arrow in the door, eyes narrowing and brows furrowing beneath the mask. Usually, arrows means more damned ninjas. But…ninjas don't usually use the fancy ones.
Hitting the ground lightly, she follows the trajectory back toward its source, trying to see just who's getting into the middle of this. Things get awkward if you don't meet until the fight starts, after all.
The Green Arrow roll over the side of the rooftop and catches the fire escape below, before using that to swing down and land quietly, and gracefully, on the alley asphalt below. He rises, a second before he spots Danny.
He raises his bow and levels it at her, an arrow at the ready. He hesitates briefly, though, his bright green eyes dipping over her. "Hm. You're not Seven Phoenix Triad. Too much style."
His voice is deep and smooth.
"Not nearly creepy enough," Danny agrees, head tilting as she looks him over. "And unless there's some other long-lost legend I've missed - which, to be fair, I never discount the possibility of at this point in my life - you're not Robin Hood."
A smirk tugs at one corner of her lips. "All hats to the contrary." Notably, she doesn't seem to be concerned about the fact that he has an arrow pointed at her.
"So, are you here to ruin their night, or is this going to get awkward?"
"Yeah, you don't quite ping 'stranger danger' enough," he replies with a soft chuckle. He seems rather non-challant about breaking into a triad's warehouse. Gallant even. His grin comes easy and carries a sort of lopsided, charming mischief to it.
He offers a bit of a casual half-bow. "No Merry Men or Maid Marian to support me, sadly…but I -do- try and kick over the sand castle of at least one Prince John a night. Sometimes I go for a twofer." He gestures to the door. "…Or a warehouse full of them."
"Green Arrow. Pleasure to meet you." The name is fairly well-known, especially in Brooklyn. He's been a masked hero for a decade now, fighting the corrupt and wicked, often for the sake of the disenfranchised, homeless or outcast. A hater of those who prey on the weak. A bully-puncher.
He seems to notice the arrow is still pointed at her, and he lowers it and loosens the tension in the string. "Well, I had some time on my hands and I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I'd free some immigrants from horrific bondage. Want to buddy up?" He grins at her.
"Iron Fist," Danny introduces herself in turn, sketching a playful flourish of a bow. "It's a long story, we should probably beat up the bad guys first. Plenty of time for origin stories after. I'm guessing you've got a collection of those toys?" she grins, tipping her chin toward the quiver.
She tightens the sash around her waist, leaning around him to get a glimpse of the warehouse once more. "You take the high road, I'll take the low?"
"Sure do. WHat do you need? Flares. Got it. Nets? Yup. Flash bangs? Mmmhm. Nonlethal? A few. Explosive? You get the picture." Sure, some of them are a lot weirder, too.
He winks and nods. He withdraws an arrow and fires it above the door, where it fastens to the roof, and a cord yanks him, bringing him up to cling to the outside wall just outside of a window on the second floor. He clings there and glances down, giving the beautiful ki mistress a thumbs-up.
Danny raises a hand, counting down from three on her fingers before she takes a running start at the door, kicking it in with a flying kick.
Inside, half a dozen triad members jump up from a card table, while two more by a shipping container shout in surprise, two more by the door go for their guns, and two more at the back door start looking around themselves to see if anyone else is coming.
"Hey guys," Danny grins, surfing the door across the floor for a few feet. "Any chance you want to surrender peacefully?"
The moment she kicks in the door, he smashes in the window and fires a grappeling arrow at the ceiling. He attaches the cord to his waist and swings in like something out of a swashbuckling movie. He grins to himself a she hears her quip. That's his kind of woman.
The moment one of them reaches for a weapon, which is inevitable, Green Arrow swings into view from the window, bow at the ready. "Honestly, I would have been dissapointed if you'd surrendered peacefully!," he calls down at them in almost native-sounding Mandarin (Or whichever branch of the languages they speak).
His first arrow fires off, and it lands between two of the criminals standing in the back. It explodes with sparks and sound and blunt shrapnel, peppering them both with enough force to likely send them flying. His next arrow is prepped as he swings passed, far above.
Oh, there are plenty of weapons to hand.
The triad isn't shy about intimidation - it's their greatest weapon for keeping the people they have here in line, after all. One of the men at the card table comes out with a pair of ridiculously oversized and flashy handguns, pulling them from behind his back and shouting in Mandarin. "Take them down! Any means necessary!"
Meanwhile, the two at the front door are taking aim on the Green Arrow with (less impressive) guns of their own now that they've recovered. And while mister two-guns supposedly holds the vigilantes at bay, four of the others at the table step back to reach for their jackets, pulling out pairs of hatchets.
"So who's going first?" Danny asks, smirking as she looks among them. Just in time for two-guns to start firing. Whoever or whatever she is, she's incredibly fast. In a moment, she's jumping and flipping, turning somersaults as he empties his guns in her direction.
It almost looks like she's avoided all of them…until the last bullet. He manages to fire while she's standing still, but in the split second he pulls the trigger, she raises her hand in a golden glow. The bullet pings off of it, ricocheting into the slowest man at the card table.
The Green Arrow finishes the swing and lands on a catwalk above the floor of the warehouse. He winces as they begin firing at him, and he crouches, leveling the arrow at the ones shooting at him. He aims between the rails on the catwalk and fires. The arrow lands between the ones popping shots at him, and tear gas explodes out, bringing the two men to coughing, choking messes. He smirks a bit to himself and draws another arrow. This one looks more normal, though it is blunted and stylized in a way as to not pierce much skin…but hurt like a bitch.
He turns to the side and fires the arrow. It ricochets off of a rail on the catwalk and then zooms down, hitting the head of one of the men in the tear gas in a perfect shot. He topples, unconcious. The Green Arrow laughs softly and watches the second man collapse from the tear gas, and he shrugs to himself. At this point he catches the woman stop the arrow, and he whistles.
"Last Dragon up in here. This chick has The Glow."
Out of ammo, two-guns takes a moment to reload, pointing his empty gun in the direction of the rafters and shouting at the others to get the archer. The two at the front door are well and truly down, as is the slowest man at the table, but the two at the back door are starting to recover from the shrapnel attack of Oliver's first arrow, scrambling for cover and shouting about who sees him.
Meanwhile, Danny squares off against the quartet of hatchet-wielding triad members.
"I have to say, honestly, I'm just glad you're not ninjas." Which is incitement enough to send them rushing her, hatchets flashing in the dim light of the warehouse.
The thing is, hatchets or no, they're severely outmatched. Watching Danny fight is like watching the finest choreographed ballet, if said ballet was accompanied by the sound of flesh on flesh, or sudden cries of surprised pain. She moves in perfect circles, hands and feet sweeping blows out of her way just long enough to deliver a sharp blow when and where it counts, like a river through stones.
He watches the two men recover, and he sighs softly to himself. Bad guys never know when to stay down.
"Come on, guys. This is just getting silly." He loads another arrow and lets loose. It erupts into a nylon mesh net mid-air, and it attempts to wrap around one of the two men, pinning his limbs and sending him tumbling. He reaches back, then, and he sighs as he finds he only has one arrow left. He needs to bring a larger quiver next time, but his bigger one was in need of repairs.
This arrow flies at the face of the remaining man fleeing him. The tip expands suddenly, transforming into a bright red boxing glove. It impacts the crook's face with the intensity of a champion's punch. POP!
In the time it takes two-guns to reload, Oliver has taken out the rest of the men who'd like to flee and Danny has put down the quartet of hatchet-wielding triad.
"If you have a quartet of triad, does that make it dodecahed…rad?" She says, reaching a hand up to the back of her neck and giving it a little crack before she looks back to the last of the men.
"All right. You know who I am. And you know there's two ways this can turn out. You can put those down and we can tie you up nice and gentle like, or we can do this the hard way. Your boys weren't much of a work out, so I'm mostly okay with the hard way, but I'd prefer it if you kept your bullets to yourself."
The man sneers, looking between Danny and the rafters where Oliver lurks. "You cannot stop all of us, Iron Fist," he says in Mandarin. "We are too many, and you are but one."
"Math was never my strong suit," he calls down from the catwalk. He makes his way down the stairs to the main floor, glancing about to take it all in. He ends up standing beside Iron Fist as she faces off with the men, and he sighs. He adjusts his stance, holding his bow like a melee weapon. "Logic was never their strong suit, right? Come on. We finish these guys off, free the people here, then sushi? I could kill for some bluefin right about now."
He doesn't seem incredibly impressed by the thugs, glancing from her to them. "Also, we're two, not just one. But, seriously? Miss 'Shogun of Harlem' over here? Blocking bullets with magic fists? -She- can't take you all out? Whew. Having -some- ego is good for living a good life, but you really need to step it back some…or it's going to get you hurt."
"I'm usually more about the noodles after a good fight, but to be fair, this was kind of a mediocre fight at best," Danny muses, grinning. "Present company excluded, of course. Green jeans has got a point though," she continues to the man with the guns, pointing a thumb at Oliver. "Looks like two now."
The man snarls, twitches, hesitates…and it's the moment of hesitation that gets him. Danny steps on one of the fallen hatchets, flipping it up into her hand, and wings it right at two-guns so that the handle clocks him right between the eyes.
The gangster falls like a sack of grain and Danny holds a fist out toward Oliver. "And that's what they call teamwork."
"Hey, they're called breaches, Ip Lady, not jeans. But I could go for noodles, too. Know any good places?" He is about to step forward to start clobbering when she downs the two. He glances at her first and grins, dapping it. "Well, color me impressed. Alright, do you know a place for the people here? If we call the cops they'll just get deported, likely. I know some people if you don't, but…this town seems like your area of expertise…"
He tucks his bow away and rolls his shoulder, glancing about.
"Let's see what we've got first," Danny says, turning to head toward the shipping container. "But yeah, I've got a few connections. Amazing what a firm of good lawyers can do."
"I do know the best noodle places in town, though."
There's a lock on the door, chained in place, but she doesn't seem to have any trouble breaking that before she lifts the lever and opens the door with a creak. Inside, there are at least twenty people - an even mix of men, women, and teenagers who flinch away when the door opens.
"Hey, it's okay," Danny says first in Mandarin, then Cantonese. She seems to have no trouble with either. "We're going to get you somewhere safe. Somewhere actually safe. Where you can move forward. Okay?"
"Well, that sounds good, then," he replies with a lopsided grin. "Hm. Probably can't go in there in-costume, though. Do they to take out so we can still eat without..I don't know…baring our souls and faces on the first date?"
He follows along behind her, humming a bit to himself as he reaches up to smooth out his well-trimmed moustache. His gaze dips over her from behind, admiring her as you might expect him too. He whistles when he gets a good look at all of the people. He lets her speak, though. This is her place.
The people seem uncertain, but once a young girl steps forward and peeks out to see the gangsters all down and relays it back to them, there's a sudden babble of multiple Asian tongues as the people rush out, surrounding Oliver and Danny both with eager thanks and tears on their cheeks.
Once they've settled, Danny turns a wry smile on the archer. "It's possible that I have a special relationship with the proprietors," she winks, stepping back. "You got this for a minute?" she asks, gesturing to the crowd as she produces a cell phone and takes a few steps away.
Her conversation is quiet, but it seems like one that's been had before, a smooth routine.
He nods to that. He steps past her and offers a charismatic smile to the crowd. He begins responding in a lot of those languages (Some known more then others). He has an incredibly disarming attitude, and soon enough he has them calm and eager to be free. He glances back at her and gives a thumbs-up, standing again as they wait.
When Danny turns back to find Oliver's charmed the crowd, she looks terribly amused, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, there you go," she chuckles. "They should be here in about ten minutes. In the meantime, let's get these lovely gentlemen restrained so they're still here for the cops when these people have gotten to safe harbor."
She relays the same to the gathered refugees, collecting a packet of zip ties from the card table with a grimace. "You know, it's one thing to bring in drugs, or guns, or bootleg Nikes. But to take advantage of people's dreams…"
He nods to that and and reaches out to take some of the zip ties. He moves from man to man, spending a moment tieing up their arms and legs. "Yeah, this whole thing is extra messed-up. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, but I know you won't be."
He adjusts his hat and brushes his fingers back through his blonde hair.
Danny snorts back a laugh as she overheards Oliver. "Ain't that the truth," she agrees. In short order, the men are all restrained, and as promised, in about ten minutes a herd of four black passenger vans pulls up outside, driven by…well, they look like the stereotypical men in black, in black suits and dark glasses even at night. Whoever she is, she's got resources.
Danny steps outside to exchange a few words with them, then helps the refugees load up and make sure the vans are on their way. Only then does she look back to Oliver, tilting her head in lieu of arching a brow. "So. Noodles?"
He lingers to the side as the refugees are taken away. He makes quiet note of it all, adjusting his cap. Once they are alone in the warehouse he steps towards her, and he flashes a grin.
"Well, you -did- say something about the best place in town. I'm guessing you're treating? Arrows are expensive, and fighting crime doesn't come with paychecks." He keeps the whole billionaire thing to himself for now, of course.
"Ah, but sometimes the hero gig pays off," Danny chuckles, reaching up to clap a hand to his shoulder as she starts down the street. "I chased off some gangsters who were extorting them for protection money a while ago, now they insist I have some noodles every time I stop by. I try not to think of it like I'm charging them protection, but they noodles are really good."
She keeps to the side streets as she goes, though she's as confident as if she were walking down Broadway. "So. You're the Green Arrow. You know, I'll be honest, I had my doubts about the whole arrow thing, but you're working it."
"Most I get is free coffee back in Brooklyn, but I don't mind. There's some -good- coffee in Brooklyn." He flashes his grin as he walks alongside her. He wanders the street in his full costume without any sense of embarassment. He glances sidelong at her as they go.
"Well, thanks. Everyone has their schtick, right? If I had magic powers or whatever you're rocking I wouldn't need a boxing glove arrow."
"The Iron Fist," Danny says with a wry smile, lifting her hand and willing her chi into it until it glows once more. "Part of that long story. Short version is, it's concentrated chi." The light fades out as she lowers her hand again.
"It's meant to be used to defend the Heavenly City. This isn't exactly K'un-Lun, but it's the city where I am, so it's the city I'm defending. As best I can, at least. What about you? Former olympic archer? Secret redneck bow-hunter who got tired of deer? Ren-fest runaway?"
"Huh. Named after your powers. I guess that's normal. I wear green and shoot arrows. Spider-Man sticks to walls and shoots webs. Hell, even Batman is…well. I'm pretty sure he's Dracula."
He cocks his head to the side and glances over at her curiously. "The Heavenly City. Me? Eh, something like that. Stranded on an island for a few years with only a bow. Learned to survive."
"That'll do it," Danny nods. "Funny, the things we find ourselves doing when it's that or dying. It's a title, mostly," she adds for herself. "But yeah. Title and power are kind of…one. They go together. So how'd you get off the island?" she asks, looking over with a crooked smile. Because that's the important part, after all. "Or was it this island? Are you making a clever Manhattan joke?"
He laughs softly and shakes his head. "No. Lian Yu. It's in the North China Sea." He shrugs a well-muscled shoulder and glances over at her as they walk along. He brushes his fingers over his goatee as he idly watches her.
"Damn. That would've been a great punchline, though," Danny grins, finally rounding the corner to the back of an alley that seems to house several restaurants. "Stranded in New York, no way to survive except for a bow and arrow. Although, you know, it's surprisingly easy. Getting by in New York without anything, that is." She tried it for a bit herself after she got home.
She reaches for the back door, sticking her head into the kitchen with a cheerful greeting in Mandarin. It's a busy kitchen for sure, the sounds of pots and pans and sizzling food reaching out into the alley. And it smells great.
He laughs at that and nods. "I'll take your word on it." He takes off his cap as she opens the door and the two costumed heroes step into the busy kitchen. He arches an eyebrow and glances over at her, flashing a grin.
"I'm assuming you know what's best to order?"
"Anything here," Danny answers honestly, clapping a hand to the cook's shoulder and exchanging some pleasantries. "You have any dietary restrictions?" Since she came back to New York, she doesn't exactly limit herself on what she consumes, but she knows monastic strictures as well as anyone. "If not, I'm personally partial to the pork noodle bowl."
"I'm good," he responds on the question of dietary restrictions. "I -love- spicy food, though. Bunch of chilis on the island I was on. It was one of the only things I had to add flavor to my food." He offers a warm and friendly smile to anyone in the kitchen who looks his way, tipping his cap to the person in charge.
"Two pork noodle bowls, extra spicy," Danny relays to the cook before stepping out of the way to wait, leaning against a wall. There's a little friendly ribbing between her and the cooks about her new friend, earning a laugh from the masked woman.
"Don't mind them," she grins over at Oliver. "They learned it from their mothers. The 'are you getting married' urge is strong in these ones."
He gives a thumbs-up once he hears the order. He walks over to where she is leaning against the wall, and he leans on his side, facing her. "Ah, I get that. My mom is the same way. Anytime she sees me with a girl, that's all I get."
"I have managed to escape that in my life," Danny chuckles, watching the process of preparing the meal with a few glances in his direction. "I lost my parents young, and K'un-Lun wasn't about getting married. It was about training. And then I was here, and there's no one here pushing for anything. It's actually kind of…liberating."
"These guys are just ribbing though. I don't usually come in here with anyone. But hey, you were such a gentleman, taking the time to introduce yourself before just rushing into a perfectly good fight," she winks. "I figure I owe you dinner."
"I lost my dad, but…not too long ago, honestly. Five years or so. But…we didn't get along for most of my life. Ever, really. Mostly my fault. My mom is still around but she has more to worry about then me." He shrugs again.
He grins lopsidedly and nods. "Well, hell, next time's on me. But we'll do it in Brooklyn. I'm pretty far out of my comfort zone here."
"And yet, here you are," Danny points out, head tilting. "Granted, I'm grateful. But this far out of your comfort zone, how'd you even get wind of that operation?" She goes from personal to business like it's nothing, and despite the fact that she wears a mask, she just doesn't seem…exceptionally concerned about her secrets.
He considers his answer for a few moments before he shrugs. "I broke apart a trafficking ring in Brooklyn that was using foster kids about eight months ago. The cop on the case keeps his ears out for similar stuff. He let me know about some things he'd heard from vice and…" He shrugs.
"Man, people are awful," Danny shakes her head, pushing off the wall just in time for the cheff to come over with a plastic bag holding two takeaway containers. "You, sir, are my hero," she grins at the man, taking the bag and shouting a cheerful goodbye to the rest of the staff before leading the way back out to the alley.
"You in a rush to get back to Brooklyn, or you want to eat somewhere cool?" she asks with a challenging grin. "Little bit of roof-hopping involved, but it's worth it."
"Some people are awful. Most people are pretty great. They just need to be shown they are." He shrugs and then turns as the food arrives. He smirks a bit in response to her last question, plucking his cap off and pressing it against his chest. "My friend, you have my interest…and my time."
"Perfect."
Danny leads the way, up a fire escape and across a series of rooftops where they stretch close enough together, following a board here or a gutter there. It takes about five minutes of light-footed roof-skipping until she reaches her destination.
It's just another rooftop, really, but this one borders on a night market. Colorful lanterns are strung across the street, while music plays and the smells of various food stalls rise above it all. Dragon dancers move through the crowds of the street, and colorful wares hang from the stalls.
"Best people-watching in the city," Danny declares as she takes a seat at the edge of the roof, untying the bag to take out one of the cartons and pass it over.
He follows along behind her, tucking his cap back into place. He hums softly to himself as he moves behind her, keeping pace. He takes in the night market with a small smile, entranced by it all.
He moves to sit down beside her, letting his legs dangle. "It really is, no joke. This is super impressive. …The company isn't bad, either."
Danny takes out her own carton, snapping apart the takeout chopsticks with a wry smile in his direction. "Yeah, right back at you," she tips her chin up before digging in with her chopsticks.
She chews in silence for a moment, pensive, before she looks back over at him. "Kind of nice not doing this alone, actually."
He opens his own carton and preps his chopsticks. He handles the chopsticks with skill, right alongside her. He nods when she says that, and he grins softly.
"So, you don't invite every handsome adventurer you meet up onto rooftops, then?," he teases lightly, his tone playful.
"Shockingly, I don't run into a lot of handsome adventurers around here," Danny laughs, then arches a brow so comically that it's obvious even beneath the mask. "Have I even yet?" she teases back. "Nah, I mean, usually folks are all gotta run, can't run into the cops. Not really a lot of time for conversation after knocking heads, you know."
Another mouthful of noodles, chewed happily. "Or else you're in the fight and by the time you're done you're wondering if it's not probably better to avoid them anyhow. Sense of humor, not that common on the vigilante front. It's like people don't get into it to have a good time or something."
"You'd think masked heroes are a dime a dozen in New York," he replies with that lopsided grin of his. He laughs at that dig at him and he shakes his head, eating more noodles. "Ah, I get that. Yeah, a lot of our type don't tend to hang out afterwards." He shrugs.
"Yeah, we tend to either be -really- quippy, or stone-cold stoics."
"And it's cool to be stoic and all, but you've gotta be able to still take a joke. I mean, you can't underestimate the value of a straight man, after all," Danny gestures with her chopsticks, smile crooked as she watches over the marketplace in a very literal sense.
"And then there's the mask issue," she adds, tapping at her own with the end of her chopsticks. "I mean, unless that's your thing, you gotta figure eventually they've gotta come off, and that's a whole different conversation, you know?"
THe Green Arrow nods to that as he chuckles. He eats some more noodles as he follows her gaze to peer down at the market. "So, Chinatown is your place, then? Your main area of expertise?," he asks curiously.
He considers that a bit and then nods. "A good point. And…my thing?" He considers that. "Never been with someone wearing a costume and mask so I guess I wouldn't -know- if it's my thing." He pauses mid-noodle, glancing over. "…Wait, is that what you meant?"
"Oh, that's exactly what I meant," Danny laughs, not the least bit embarrassed. "And hey, not judging if it is," she adds, holding up a hand. "Not any weirder than any of the thousands of Halloween party hookups every year, I guess, if you think about it."
The smile lingers, despite another mouthful of noodles. "I make my way around the city, for the most part," she answers belatedly. "But yeah, I spend a little more time in Chinatown. More people here that the Iron Fist means something to. And I kind of figure a big part of what makes us who we are is that extra bit of hope we give people, so."
"I guess that's fair," the Green Arrow responds with a chuckle. "And I'm not judging, either." He plucks his cap off and sets it down beside him, brushing his undercut back out of his face. He's finished his box of noodles and sets it aside. "Damn, those were good."
He glances over at her, grinning. "I can appreciate that. I get around the city, too, but focus on Brooklyn. They know and tend to like me there. Been protecting it for about a decade now."
"Also, I feel like the arrow thing really fits the hipster vibe," Danny teases, grinning. "Like, back to basics, salt of the earth." Says the warrior monk raised in a monastery with no electricity. Finishing her own noodles, she leans back on her hands and looks up at the sky, content. "Farm to table?" she continues, laughing. "Man. I love this city and the ridiculous people who live here. There's nothing else like it."
He grins and nods. "Called out. I'm sure the goatee doesn't hurt it, either." He chuckles and shrugs. The man chuckles a bit and nods to everything she's saying. "Called out on all of it. That's me in a nutshell." He doesn't mention the money, or the fame, or the mansion or penthouse or any of that. 'Salt of the Earth' indeed. Hell, he wishes he was.
"Could be worse. You could be wearing green plaid." Danny looks over, winking, before returning her gaze to the sky with a laugh. "You know, the part that I think is funniest is all this stuff that we make fun of people for? It was just life back in K'un-Lun." A beat. "All right, not veganism. Even the monks didn't go that far. But reducing waste, reusing materials, cultivating your own food, knowing where it came from. Just life. Although there's something about the lengths people will go to to do it here in a city that's in no way built for it that is a little bit special still."
He glances down at himself and grins before glancing over at her. "That was the original costume, but I ditched it." The man nods a bit to that, smoothing down his goatee as he looks out over the market. "I respect it. I do. Hell, otherwise I wouldn't spend so much time around the people who do it. Everyone has the people they feel the most connected to, and…for some damn reason it's them for me." He looks over. "What about you?"
"Hmm?" Danny doesn't seem to follow the question at first, rolling it over in her mind until it clicks. "I'm not sure if it's everybody or nobody," she muses. "Maybe not everybody." Certainly not the rich CEOs and board members, or the snotty sorts. Danny stands out in those gatherings as it is. "I guess the people who just do a good day's work. Like the cooks back there. The people who make the city run."
Green Arrow nods to that and sits back a bit, leaning on his hands as his legs dangle over the edge of the roof. "I can respect that." He sits forward again then. "So, when you're not eating noodles on roof tops or Iron Fisting people, what do you do for fun?"
"Wow," Danny snickers, not the least bit ashamed of giggling like a teenager. "Iron Fisting people. Wow. That would be so unpleasant. Thank you for giving me that image."
She takes a breath at the question, letting it out slowly. "I mean, this kind of is what I do for fun. Also, this takes a lot of training. Constant training. I didn't get here by resting on my laurels, so to speak. I'm sure you spend a solid chunk of time practicing, right?"
He smirks and winks over at her. "No problem." He nods to her explanation and glances down at the night market again.
"Oh, absolutely. I try to have a life outside of it, though, but…it can be hard. Still, I do what I can to stay grounded."
"You drink pumpkin spice lattes, don't you?" Danny deadpans, falling all the way back until she's lying on the edge of the roof, her knees hanging over her edge and her arms folded behind her head. "It's okay. You're not alone. I would make a joke about yoga pants, but I've kind of lost the high ground on the yoga front."
He turns on his side to look down at her as she lays back like that, watching her. He smirks softly. "I don't shame people on their little joys, pumpkin spice among them." She can likely note his bright green eyes dip over her before he pulls his eyes away to look up at the New York night sky and skyline. "I bet you rock those yoga pants, to be fair."
"Damn straight." Danny chuckles softly, meeting his gaze and letting her own slip back down over the rest of him unabashedly. "Mmm," she shakes her head. "Making me think twice about the whole mask thing." The grin starts to spread again, lips twitching. "Is it wrong if all I've got going through my head right now is a whole lot of terrible jokes about a bigger quiver?"
He laughs a bit at that and shakes his head. "So, my hideout and training area is called the Arrow Cave. To the point, I know. This masked criminal I caught told me it should be called The Quiver. It's a much better name, but like I'm going to let her win." He glances down at her again. "We should do this again soon. Or, something like it."
"To be fair, the Arrow Cave is not nearly as cool as the Quiver," Danny agrees, chuckling. "Although the double entendres are a little safer with the arrow cave. Your call on that front. But agreed," she nods. "Next time, your place. You can show me the Brooklyn crime scene, like a real gentleman."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he replies with a soft laugh. He picks up his cap again and places it on his outstretched finger, twirling it. He glances down at her again, idly admiring her sprawled out form as they talk. "Brooklyn crime scene? You're on. We can beat up some troublemakers and chow down on some Olmsted. Amazing place. They grow a lot of their ingredients in their back garden. It's -great-."
"Sounds great," Danny agrees, rolling onto her side in turn, moving that much closer to him as she does. The silk uniform is little more than pajamas, and hides about as much. Beneath it all, it's clear she's in excellent shape, her body honed into a weapons. "The question is, how are you going to get in touch?"
He certainly notices all of that. He brushes his fingers back through his hair, trying his damndest not to act flustered. "Pigeon? No joke. I keep some pigeons. They deliver messages." He grins lopsidedly and peers down at her, leaning in a bit. "-Or- you can give me your number and I can shoot you a text or something. Preference?"
"Do your pigeons stay in your medieval tower?" Danny teases, not really waiting for an answer before producing a flip phone from a fold of her sash, offering it over. It's a burner, sure, but even for a burner it's a little bit on the old-fashioned side. "I don't have a pigeon keep of my own. I'm clearly falling down on my hipster duries."
"Coop on the top of an old church refurbed into an artist colony," he teases. Well, he's…probably teasing? Either way he takes the phone and pulls out a similar phone from his own utility belt. Clearly a burner phone. He exchanges numbers in the phones and then shoots her a text to make sure it worked. He hands it back and grins. "I'll try not to shoot you a text at like, 3 in the morning."
"That'll be a good call. I might be sleeping. I do that sometimes." Danny winks, slipping the phone back into her sash and giving him a last, long look. "I make no such promises myself. Warn the wife, crime never sleeps."
He chuckles and rises to his feet. "This archer flies solo. No wife or girlfriend, or boyfriend or husband or anything waiting for me at home. Just an empty tower for me and my pigeons." He winks down at her and then offers a hand to help her up, not that she needs it.
Danny takes the hand all the same, though he can tell she's not using it for support as she stands up. "Just you and the pigeons, huh?" she says with a wry smile, tightening her grip on his hand just enough to pull him closer. The height difference is enough that she needs the help. "Hope the pigeons don't mind if I just steal a little something, then." She's not shy in the least, reaching up with her other hand to cup his neck and pull him in for a kiss.
He steps in as she tugs him closer, surprised but not resisting. "They're pretty understanding." He leans in as she cups his neck, and his lips brush hers. Even with the goatee, he's a good kisser. He knows how not to tickle with it. His strong arm loops about her and he holds her close as he lets the kiss linger. When it ends he offers the martial artist that lopsided grin of his. "Yeah, I'll definatly be giving you a call."
Danny's kiss is as open and brash as she is, the hint of spice from the noodles still lingering on her lips. It's almost as though there's something more there as well, as if that golden energy that glows in her hand burns through all of her. She's in the moment, and enjoying the moment, brushing a thumb over his lips after one last press of her own.
"Good," she answers with a single, firm nod and a crooked grin of her own. For just a moment, it seems like she might lean in again, before she catches herself with a low hum. "Mmm. Just gonna get myself in trouble if I push it."
Only then does she let him go, though not without a light chuck at his chin. "Glad I ran into you, Green Arrow. But I better get back to my own place before I make any rash decisions."
She kind of takes his breath away with that kiss, and the masked archer's cheeks are a hint flushed when it is done. "I like some trouble," he admits, his voice low. He grins when she steps back and he places his cap back on his head, grinning down at her. "Well, we can save rash decisions for another night, Iron Fist." He makes his way to the edge of the building and glances back at her.
"Keep an eye out for the pigeon," he says with a grin, before he drops off the edge of the building, vanishing into the night.
Danny steps up to the edge of the roof to watch him go with a lopsided smile, setting her hands on her hips. Yep. Nothing wrong with watching him leave either. Once he's out of sight, she steps back with a laugh. "Hell of a night, Iron Fist," she shakes her head, collecting the trash back into the plastic bag and starting her rooftop-to-rooftop trip back to her own penthouse. "Hell of a night."