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Of late, the crime rate in Central Park had reached levels that would almost be comical, if not for the very really impact it was having on the people who lived within the city. As if tensions between the citizenry and the police weren't already high enough, the fact that it was widely agreed that the massive expanse was simply Not Safe was like adding insult to injury.
So naturally, while he is in town on business, David North has come to Central Park. At sunset. Alone. Wearing a suit.
What could possibly go wrong?
With his hands clasped behind his back, David stands at the edge of a path that winds through the park, studying a somewhat unusual stretch of green with thoughtfully narrowed eyes. The green itself isn't unusual, but the half dozen tire tracks worn into the grass are.
*
It's not like the park is the safest part of town. As it happens, Luke Cage has his own reasons for being here. There's always trouble north of the park, up in Harlem, and spilling into the park itself. Some of that trouble has a name — Jeffrey Alito, the godson of a certain woman who wants to put the boy back on the straight and narrow.
This is where Cage comes in.
Dressed this evening in a dark tee-shirt and jeans, the man comes strolling along the paths, watching for signs of the gang of kids he's been told about. And Jeffrey in particular. It would be impossible for Luke not to look big, but his casual stroll, at least, has him looking as though he's not prepared for attack. When he totally is.
*
Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.
Just her and the pavement.
Shoes meet pavement. Left. Right. Left. Right.
Kitty Pryde didn't intend to come on a jog through central park. She'd come into the city for a meeting to discuss potentially returning to school. The future beckons; she can taste it, yet every time she sticks her toe in the water, the present rings up current reality.
As it stands, she doesn't make a particularly characteristic jogger. With her light wash jeans, cable knit sweater, and her shoulder bag slung haphazardly across her body, she looks like someone fleeing the scene of a crime rather than someone out for an evening jaunt around the park.
Her hands ball into fists, and she tucks her chin downwards, pushing herself to a sprint. Left. Right. Left. Right.
*
At a different time of day, David would probably stick out less like a sore thumb. At this hour, however, a man who looks like he does should be well on their way home, not loitering in a dangerous neighborhood studying the grass as if it holds unseen answers to life's most fascinating questions.
He isn't completely focused on it, at least. The sound of rapidly-approaching footfalls does get David to lift his head and turn to see Kitty — and Luke, beyond. He blinks once and tilts his head fractionally to one side.
*
The massive black man actually steps back when the girl crosses his path. It's only in a certain kind of movie — one that won't really become a thing for another fifteen years — that a man plodding along like he is, hands jammed into his pockets, has any chance of catching up to a girl running at a full sprint. "You better watch where you're goin', girl!" he calls out. "Dangerous out here, this time-a night!" But he makes no threatening move, just continues his stroll, watching for the bangers from the corner of his eye.
*
Left. Right. Left. Ri — STOP.
Flats skid along the pavement as the brunette does a full stop when she eyes the man wandering about the park. Her nostrils flare, her hands ball into tighter fists, and her jaw tightens. David is not beyond suspicion for the petite woman.
In fact, he's very suspicious. Suit? Check. Green area where body snatchers were seen? Check. Wreaks of government overreach? Check.
Her eyes darken, and she peers over her shoulder towards the man who calls to her about the dangers of the park, granting him a small nod, heavy nod. He's right, the park is dangerous, but not just because of the muggings.
As she stands there full-stop, she bends down, as if needing to tie her shoelace, buying herself a moment to assuage any impulsivity, and suspicion of her own. Clearly a runner cannot run with an untied lace.
But just as she'd been standing there, she disappears, vanishing as quickly as she'd appeared.
Invisible, incorporeal feet spring back through David, turning solid on the other side to kick the back of his knee. Her goal is to crumple him. "What did you do with them?" she hisses. "Where are they?" She blinks hard, "Tell me where they are!"
It's fortunate for Kitty that Central Park has turned to such disrepute…
*
What little tension had come to David's stance melts away when Luke calls after Kitty, who passes him by safely as can be. His mouth actually quirks into a self-depreciating smile and he slowly shakes his head, turning his gaze back out towards the grass. It was so nice to worry over nothing.
After a moment, he pauses, slowly turning his head to look where Kitty had been a moment before. That's strange. He hadn't heard her lea—
The noise David makes when sneaker-clad feet plow into him is a very genuinely started yelp and he immediately goes down to one knee, one hand hitting the ground to keep himself from landing entirely on his face, just as designed. This… this does not normally happen to him. He's startled enough that he does not instinctively strike back — instead, he hurriedly brings his hand up, blinking rapidly to try and shake the confusion. "Slow down! You're making a mistake!"
*
"Aww, sweet Christmas," Cage mutters under his breath as he picks up the pace. He's over there in just a moment, not exactly trying to put himself between the pair, but at least trying to draw Kitty back. "Shit, girl! The hell he do to you?"
*
While Kitty has done a rather good job of seeming fine the last few weeks, she is, by no means, fine. Her eyes blink hard, welling with unbidden tears, her jaw sets tighter, and her entire posture speaks to tension. She knows how to fight. With her feet askance at shoulder width apart, her arms at her sides, and her body twitching with anger, there's no question she is prepared to fight David.
Unfortunately David isn't who she thinks he is.
"You can't catch me off guard again! You're here in a suit! Where is the next white van?!" she demands in yet another hiss. Her gaze remains on David, even when she answers Cage, "His people took people. Did things to them," there's a deadness to her tone. Kitty means business.
*
Knowing better than to try and pick himself up in this situation, David instead twists in place to sit on the ground instead, his expression somewhere between pain from the kick and no small amount of confusion. The hand he'd held up to try and stave Kitty off gives Luke a light wave, the universal sign language for 'I'm okay,' as he peers up at the pair of them.
Understanding dawns on his face.
"You think I — no! No, I'm trying to find them," David says quickly, his eyes wide. "I was at one of the protests a few days ago, then I heard about what happened here." His gaze flicks up to Luke with a wince. He'd love some help, but knows the other man isn't actually in a good position to offer it.
*
And the girl's got -skill-, frankly. Luke's a brawler, but she's a lot quicker than he is, from the look of things. Luke has no idea what's going on, too. "I think maybe you oughta listen to the man," he notes to Kitty. "Maybe he's the one you're lookin' for, maybe he ain't…" Cage would put his money on 'ain't'. "But clearly he knows somethin'. Can't find out what he knows if he's out."
*
With the plead from David and the assertion from Luke, the mini-ninja's more entered senses seem to kick in. Kitty stares daggers at David; she's unconvinced. She'd let the authorities take over the vans, much to her chagrin twenty four hours later, but for now, she relents.
Vehemently she takes a single step back, disgust writ on her face with obvious emotion. "You heard what happened here or you heard what they said happened here?" she glowers as her hands finally drop to her sides. "What protest? How many did they pinch?"
*
"Thank you," David says to Luke — though, once Kitty takes a step back, he repeats it for her. "Thank you. I did not take anyone or know who did, I swear to you." He draws in a deep breath, allowing his cheeks to puff briefly before he exhales. Well. His evening has become… interesting.
Since he's already on the ground, David just… stays put, one hand lightly clutching his knee as it mends much-too-quickly out of sight. "Both. I read the article, and then a young man who was here told me what he'd actually seen. Asian boy, bald… odd name." He squints slightly, as if trying to recall. "Howlett, I think. The protest was on the eleventh, they took one." He holds up one finger, making a face. "The organizer, if I don't miss my guess. A girl. Short hair."
*
Luke takes a step back, ready to intercede again, though uncertain that it would have any effect if he did, and nods his acknowledgement of David's thanks. His arms cross over his broad chest, and he watches the pair, takes a moment to scan the area for his own targets, then returns his eyes to David as he speaks. "Who got taken?" he asks, concern in his voice. He has responsibilities to his people — and people being kidnapped close to Harlem, that's not a good thing for his people.
*
It's probably wise David remains where he is; Kitty is one of those people who easily feels small, she might take his standing as a sign of aggression. "Someone who took someone would swear the same thing," she replies as her arms cross over her chest in a mirror of Luke's posture. Her nose wrinkles, however, at the description of Akihiro. She nods once, maybe David is okay. Maybe.
The last, however, causes her posture to crumple, her shoulders draw inward. Her hands relax. Her eyes lid. Carefully, she presses her hands over her eyelids, hardening herself in the process. "Was she taken or arrested?" her eyebrows arch expectantly. "I think they use both." Her head cants and she attempts to catch Luke's gaze, "I don't know exactly. But it's more than New York City," her eyes flit to the old tire tracks. "Some of us stopped a transport int he park over a week ago. White vans carrying people unconscious and hooked to IVs. I don't exactly know the common thread." Although she has suspicions.
*
"I misspoke. The organizer was a grown man — he was taken," David clarifies, glancing between the pair. "By the girl. I don't know who she was or who she works for, but she's…" He trails off, searching his mind for the right word. He eventually settles for "…dangerous. Trained. She had some kind of sedative," he tells Kitty, leaning his head to one side so that he can lightly thump one of his fists against the side of his neck, miming the act of jabbing himself with a syringe. "There was a van waiting for her. I couldn't stop it." He folds his arms and purses his lips, his expression briefly looking almost like a pout. "I've been trying to track her ever since, but it's been useless."
He lets his attention settle on Kitty now, and he can't hide the glint of interest in his eye. "More than New York?" David echoes. "You're certain?"
*
At this point, Luke stays quiet. There are always people going missing in Harlem. Most of the time they just leave town, but sometimes… Still, he has nothing to add here. He's listening, gathering information… be on the look-out for an Asian girl with sedatives.
*
"Did she have claws?" Kitty asks in turn before casting a quick glance towards Luke. "I don't mean like fingernails — I mean large, sharp, metallic, cut-a-man-to-pieces claws." Her eyebrows lift to punctuate the point, leaving space for both the men to get her meaning. "The vans are always waiting," she murmurs quietly. Her face pales at the questions David poses to her. Oh. I'm beyond certain. I know." It takes everything in her not to tack on the word firsthand, but she manages instead to shove her hands into her pockets.
"They take people, put them on sedatives, and ship them to different locations." She cringes. "Seems like protests are a common spot to do so."
"
*
The question gets David to cast a brief glance down at the palm of one hand, though why is anybody's guess. There are no bandages or scars there, just a little gravel from when he fell. "I think she may have," he replies thoughtfully, flexing his fingers before lifting his gaze back to her.
Rather than say something to Kitty, though, David lets his eyes move back to Luke, instead. "I apologize. We must sound like absolute lunatics," he says slowly, his mouth twitching into an odd smile.
*
"Nah, man. This is shit I should know," the big man says mildly. "People getting snatched from the park, that's right next to my turf — and I don't want it crossin' Central Park North. You folks need a hand, you come see me." He tugs a pair of white cards from his pocket, hands them to the others. 'Luke Cage. Hero for Hire.' His phone number and the address of his office.
*
The comment from David merits a frown. Kitty should've stayed on the clawed woman. She couldn't possibly have stopped her, but she could've at least followed her. But Luke pulls her out of her thoughts and she nods once. The card is accepted curiously and Kitty puts it into her pocket. "I'll keep you in the loop, Mister Cage." Her head cants to the side, "Hero for hire?" she squints. "What does that mean?" Her lips twist thoughtfully. It's only then that she realizes she hasn't introduced herself. For a beat she considers giving her name of choice, but instead seems to land on, "Kate," a name no one actually calls her but is actually her name. This prompts a frown. "Kitty," she relents. "Kitty Pryde."
*
"It has a wonderful ring to it," David muses, raising the card to his brow in a grateful salute before he tucks it into his jacket. "Thank you."
Now that the young woman seems less likely to try and take his head off, David (slowly) shifts to get back to his feet. He kind of rocks warily from foot to foot, testing out his knee, before he sighs in relief. Better. With a smile, he extends a hand — to Kitty first, then Luke in turn. "David North. Not my most graceful first impression, but still. Good to meet you both."
*
Luke shrugs, a wry smile coming to his face and twisting his mouth. "People need a bodyguard, a private investigator, somebody who can maybe do a little more than the other fifteen thousand in Manhattan, they come to me. I do half my work for free anyway. They pay what they can afford." In Harlem that's mostly nothing — but when somebody wants somebody big to stand behind them and look menacing (a position that comes up more often than Luke ever expected when he got into this business) Luke often gets a call.
"Nice ta meet botha you," he adds when they introduce themselves. "Got yourself a buncha names there, Miss Pryde."
*
There's a flicker of a smile at Luke's assertion people pay what they can afford. Kitty nods lightly; she respects that. "People need help sometimes," she asserts with a small nod. David's hand is accepted. "Mister North." Her throat clears, "I'm sorry I," assaulted? attacked? " — mistook you for someone else." She's not sorry she attacked who she'd thought she attacked.
Her cheeks flush at Cage's observation. "It's Kitty, please." Her eyes narrow slightly, "And they're all basically the same name. Katherine is my given name. Kate an adult one I adopted for a bit when I lived in New Orleans. Most people here call me Kitty."
*
"I used to be in a similar line of work. I do miss it sometimes," David admits with a wistful smile. "…demonstrably, I think. Noone has actually told me to look into this, I just… am." He shrugs helplessly. He saw something wrong and just can't let it go.
"Kitty, please, it's quite alright. Water under the bridge," David tells her, offering her a wry smile. "From what you've said, if I'd seen me standing out here tonight? I'd have done the same."
*
"Kitty, then," Luke says amiably. And he nods to David. "It ain't what you'd call lucrative, but it pays the bills — and takes care of the people who need it." Slowly his face fades into a deep frown, and he peers toward the trees off to one side. "Speakin' of, if you both don't mind, I think maybe I found the guy I'm lookin' for tonight. Stupid kid thinks he's gonna be the next big name in New York." He drops his arms and starts walking toward the trees. "You need help with this claw girl, you call me. Meantime…" He passes through the treeline in pursuit of some stupid teenager.
*
A small smile follows Luke's retreating figure and Kitty waves, "I'll keep that in mind, Mister Cage! Good luck!" And with him pursuing the teen, she casts her gaze back towards David, "And, I'm glad it's forgiven Mister North, but I should get home. People might worry," there's a touch of a frown that punctuates the point. "Actually, I think people are worried. Long term worried." She shoots him a small smile before turning on her heel, back towards the direction she'd come. "I… really," she points, offers him a two fingered wave, and traipses back towards the path.
*
"Of course. I'd offer to be a gentleman and escort you, but I think you're quite capable of defending yourself," David notes with a lightly teasing voice, his eye twinkling. Before she can get too far, though, he fishes a card out of his jacket and offers it. Not his business card, but one for the hotel where he's staying. "If you want to compare notes," he explains, before taking a backward step and offering a polite wave.
*