1963-10-08 - Just so you know
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marcus gambit danny 


*

There's a fight to be had. Hell's Kitchen is under siege by vampires of all things. And it turns out that Danny can put a little bit of a dent in them, thanks to the difference between dead things and the energy of focused chi. But she's been doing a lot of talking and a lot of investigating lately, and staying a master of martial arts really requires that she train as well.

At the moment, she's in the training room in her penthouse, beating the stuffing out of a practice dummy. A battered, scratchy record is playing in the living room, a recording of some sort of eastern music. There aren't many recordings of the sort, so it's something she takes particular care of.

*

Marcus has been away. Which is really just something of an understatement for the man. You go 'away' to your parents house. You go 'away' to work. Or you go 'away' for a vacation. If it had to fit any of these descritions, it would be 'vacation'. Then again, not quite the vacation he was really looking for. Or wanted. NObody goes to Hell for a vacation, unless you're the twisted sort. And after almost two weeks of being missing, he's finally dragged himself back to about the only place that even comes to being a 'home'. And for some reason, Danny gave him a key.

Which then turns with a click. The man can't seem to keep his clothes in proper cleaned order. Because he looks like he was put through the wringer. Dirty, torn, and tattered. And Danny had just paid for them not too long ago. There's a look around, as if checking for her, before the sound of music lures him to the training room. A knock at the wall to maybe try and get attention. "I'm back." he announces tiredly.

*

From still another part of the luxurious home wafts the smell of cigarette smoke. It seems to be coming from Danny's bedroom…

Inside, at a small table presumably for putting on makeup, Gambit is leaning back in a chair, set to the side, and playing solitaire with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. No reason to interrupt Danny and her training, of course. He can be patient.

*

The sound of the key in the lock gives Danny a moment of pause, though she's in the middle of a sequence. "In the training room!" she calls out, assuming it must be Jeryn. She's had the lawyer looking into the finances for her next round of investments and improvements in the Kitchen, though a lot of it's been on hold while the place turned into literal hell.

When it's Marcus who shows up, though, she comes to a hard stop, turning toward the door. "Hey! You're not dead!" Which is when she gets a good look at him. "Probably. You're not dead, are you? Because the last thing I heard was you might've gotten too close to the thing we specifically said you weren't going to get close-"

"Do you smell smoke, or is that you?"

*

"Something like that." Marcus utters, a hand wiping at his face. "Probably should be, honestly, given the shit that happened." He'll need a new hoodie. Yet another one. Goes through them pretty fast considering the kind of stuff he's been getting into, there's a hold large enough that one of his brands can be seen, glowing a faint yellow. Clearly he'd rather keep a ragged hoodie on than be seen without anything at all. Hey, the man has self-image issues, don't blame him.

"Found out what's on the other side of the Hellmouth. It's about as unpleasant as you might think it is. Apparently, Hell is a real place. The fact that I got out of it, not really what that says." A pause, which makes him sniff. First at himself. "I thought that was me, actually. My clothes smell weird after getting out. But yeah I do. You don't look the sort that smokes." Then a look over his shoulder. "I didn't see anyone else in here…unless you brought someone home with you and they didn't leave."

*

"Not last night." As in, she has, just…not last night. Danny pauses, then rolls her eyes as she starts toward the source of the smoke, brushing past Marcus in the process. "I have a suspicion," she explains over her shoulder, gesturing for him to follow. "Besides, you need…" His current state gets a wave of her hand before she's pushing open the bedroom door.

*

"Clothes, yeah, I know." Marcus grunts, following suit. "I visited the Doctor again. He doesn't seem all that excited when I told him what exactly happened inside of it on the other side. Then again, I don't claim to able to make much sense of anything these days." No, not really. Not when you have a large gap of twenty years to make up on, not a lot makes sense. "I see I still haven't earned that drink yet." he at least muses to her. "Though maybe I should just skip that and move straight to asking for coffee." There's a joke in there somewhere, as he stands behind the woman when she opens the door.

*

"Evenin'" Remy says with his back to the pair when the door opens. Finally he looks over his shoulder. "Figurin' you be likin' an update 'bout my exploits, Danneh girl." He nods to Marcus, "Didn't realize dis'd be a menage a trois, but good to meetcha never de less."

*

Danny gives Marcus a bit of a look over her shoulder, which then gets turned on Gambit. "This is Marcus," she introduces the man she arrived with. "He's a friend. And we're not having this conversation in my bedroom, either, because while Marcus just got back from Hell, it already doesn't sound like so much fun I need to visit it myself." Stepping to the side of the doorway, she gestures out into the hall for both of them before she softens a bit. "Your ex-wife, girlfriend? Everything work out?"

*

"You really don't." Marcus deadpans, slowly blinking, then backing away from the doorway. "Hey. Yeah, what she said, I'm Marcus." He's seems a bit muted for the moment, apparently the other two have some kind of prearranged business to talk about, so he looks out the window.

*

"Fair enough," Gambit begins to collect his cards slowly. Once he stuffs them back into one of the six packs he carries at a time, he pauses in order to put out the cigarette. Gone is the glib attitude that comes so often with a wink. As smoke billows out of his mouth he murmurs quietly, "Bel is dead." As he rises, he immediately goes for another cigarette.

*

"Shit, I'm sorry," Danny winces at Gambit, moving the party out to the living room and opening up the cabinets above the wet bar there. "Did you get the bastard that did it?" She looks to Marcus, arching a brow in a silent question of if he wants a drink as she starts to get down glasses.

*

Having no idea who Gambit is, or what issue they're currently going on about, Marcus doesn't have much to offer one way or another, he's letting them talk while he comtemplates out the window. Like something the good Doctor Strange had to tell him. Either way, it's only the movement of Danny that gets him to draw back, looking over at her, making a gesture of 'whatever you got' to it. "Guessing this is something you two have been working on?" he finally says, rubbing at his forearm idly.

*

Gambit follows a long, lighting the cigarette in the hallway. The orange cherry lights up the dark parts of the hallway as he walks behind them. "The gal who did it was the other gal I was trying to find. Worse, she was aimin' for me."

*

Danny arches a brow, reaching for the scotch on the top shelf and pouring three glasses. "This gentleman," she nods toward Gambit, "Broke into the apartment a while ago, looking for either money or something he could sell to fund his search for his missing ex-wife and his girlfriend. I put him in touch with an investigator, gave him some money for it. And then things got busy and I couldn't check in. Sounds like things went…not great," she concludes, bringing the glasses over to the men before picking up her own.

*

"Guess plenty of people have been having a shitty week." Marcus concludes, turning enough to take the glass that's offered to him. "Sorry, by the way." It's about all he can offer the other man, really. Saying anything more might be out of place. "Me, Daredevil, Jessica, and some other blue-skinned woman all got trapped in Hell. For what I guess was a week. There was no real concept of time there. I don't know what happened to the other two, but me and Jessica hid out in some cave, dodging roaming bands of demons, and fighting off whatever couldn't. Things started to get…weird after awhile. As if it wasn't weird enough. Anyways, we got out, stayed with her a day or so before coming here." A beat. "Didn't want to bother you and show up at your doorstep right after."

*

"Merci," Remy says as he takes the glass and moves to sit on a couch. He leans back, looking for an ashtray. He sees none, so he simply drinks the entire glass of scotch and ashes into the glass. Gambit nods to Marcus in thanks.

*

"A call would've been good," Danny grimaces to Marcus. "I was looking into how to find you. I didn't hear until a few days back that you might be really missing and not just off fighting things on your own. By the way, I pulled together a little group of people to get started on that. But that explains why Daredevil never showed." She takes a sip of her drink then leans against the bar, looking Gambit over. "So what happened?"

*

"Wasn't my intention to get trapped in there. I don't remember even going in. Me and Hellmouth don't mix." Marcus frowns, then drinking. "I don't know what happened to Daredevil or the blue-skinned woman. All I knew is that Daredevil was after her. What happened between the chase and ending up on the other side is…well, I can't say I remember. The elements took over. All I know is that I tore apart a street trying to do it. Heard about that later though. So it was just me and Jessica for awhile." A shrug goes to that. "Sorry. I didn't know you were looking for me."

*

"Funny, my story has a Jessica too. Freak of a guy. Mutant type. Be tellin' people to do sometin' and dey jus' go an do it. Set Jessica in on me and she bout ready to rip my head off. Last second Bel come runnin' and got in the middle. Took de punch for me. Wasn't pretty," Remy says as he reaches for another cigarette.

*

"You were missing for a week and a half," Danny points out to Marcus. "I noticed." But then Gambit is explaining what happened with him, and she just takes a long drink before bringing the bottle over to top off his glass. "I'm sorry. That's…rough. And the guy giving the orders? He get away, or is he done giving orders?"

*

"Well, the Doc said we're going to work on it. Something about more research into the brands." An idle scratch at one of him at his shoulder, as if it itches. Like being the third wheel, he lets them carry on their other conversation, not quite sure what to say. This is obviously Danny's wheelhouse, other irons in the fire, that sort of thing.

*

"Ain't givin' no orders or doin' much of anything no more," Remy sits back in his chair. "In any event came back to thank ya. Jess be tinkin' bout startin' up an investigation company and I tink Imma help her out a bit." He nods, "Thanks for not callin' de cops."

*

Gambit has disconnected.

*

Gambit has connected.

*

"Investigation, huh? She should call Luke," Danny suggests. "Seems like a firm'd be easier to get work done in than just two people working alone. I'm sorry for how it all went down, though," she grimaces. "And hey. No harm, no foul, right?" She wipes the back of one arm across her brow, taking another small sip of her drink. "If you Doc would meet me, Marcus, I'd feel a lot better knowing where to find him. That, and the consensus on everything going down in the Kitchen was that the Hellmouth needed to be closed, which seems like a job for magic people."

*

"I might be able to arrange it. Doc seems of had his hands full recently. Not looking so hot, and I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the Hellmouth. He might Sorcerer Supreme, which I'm only going to assume is a very important title in some parts and the guy like can make what I do look like a parlor show but…" Marcus explain, ending it in a half-shrug. "I'll introduce you to him, if he'll allow it. We're supposed to be going to some secretive magic club in the near future. Sort of a magic-users only kind of place. Kinda sounds high-class. We were going to do some research into…well, me. Learn more about the brands, where they came from, and if there's anything we can figure out to try and restore my memory. And maybe the off-chance there's something about the Hellmouth there that he doesn't know. You might be able to get in if you can play off the chi thing you do like it's magic."

*

Remy's eyes trail from Marcus, to Danny, back to Marcus, and back to Danny. There's a whole lot of talk about Hell and magic and socery. He says nothing, but from the look on his face it seems like he's thinking that these folks might be crazy. "Luke," he says slowly. "Right."

*

"It sort of is. I mean, I earned the power by killing an immortal dragon and putting my fists into the brazier that holds its heart," Danny drawls, dry. To Gambit's look, she helpfully raises a hand, which promptly begins to glow golden before she lets it fade out. "In the magical city that exists on another plane and can only be reached once every ten years. It's not exactly devoid of magic."

*

Marcus sighs, when Danny has to prove a point, he does too. He unzips his hoodie pushing the two sides apart. He's not wearing a shirt underneathe, so not even Danny has actually gotten to see what's there. Four brands are burned and scarred into the front of his shoulders, two there, and two more large brands just above his hips. Each is a large circle of runes and other kind of archaic and arcane sysmbols surronding each brand, every with a different symbol. Thin lines of black seem to streach out like vines, as eaching out for the other three. And each of them glow with a particular color, illuminating the runes and words. Black, yellow, blue, and red. "She goes her's from an immortal dragon, I got mine by being strapped to a stone tablet and experimented on and other kinds of fuckery." he notes dully, before zipping his hoodie up again, perhaps a bit uncomfortable with showing them off.

*

Le Beau tilts his head, clearly thinking something's off. Then he spies his drink. Then he looks at Danny. "You be messin' wit ole Remy's scotch?" This is getting weird. Quickly.

*

"The same scotch we've both been drinking?" Danny smiles faintly, shaking her head. "You're the one who came in here and said he could make things blow up. Marcus got his from some sort of really bad shit. Mine took a whole lot of hard work. Literally. All hard work."

*

"I stopped taking anything for granted the moment I realized I was in Hell and I wasn't dead yet." Marcus says simply, though it clearly looks like he's not completely over the experience of it. "Anyways, Danny said she fought an immortal dragon, I have no room to not believe it didn't happen exactly as she said it did. Left that shit at the door awhile ago." And then he takes a drink from the glass he has in his hand. "Oh, I'm sure it was plenty of hard work on my part, I was just the guy that all the hard work went into. Makes me never want to step foot in Germany ever again, that's for sure."

*

"Dat's easy though, cherie. Dat's because I'm a mutant," Remy replies. He sets the glass of emptied scotch with the cigarette inside upon the table and sits back. "Sounds like I stumbled into de right penthouse on de right night. Y'all are bonafide superheroes!" There's just a slight bit of sarcasm in his voice, to be sure.

*

"How is it easier to believe that you can make things explode because you were born that way, than that I can punch through doorways because I worked really hard at it?" Danny arches a brow back at Gambit with a wry smile. "And hey, don't knock the super hero thing. I visited Steve Rogers the other day. Man fried me some spam." Is that a euphemism for something? Probably not. Danny doesn't seem like the type who'd mince words about it. "The place where I trained to be this? This is…It's a huge honor. But that's what it is. It's training, competing, training, fighting, training for the chance to be this. To be someone who can stand between the bad things and the good people."

*

"I'm no hero." Marcus states plainly. "I'm just some old soldier that got put in the wrong place at the wrong time and then thrown in a freezer for twenty years until they figured out what to do with me. Danny here earned it, anybody else who does earns. I'm just trying to eeke out some form of living, whatever that might be. It's only be sheer compassion that Danny even lets me stay with her. That's the long and short of it." He's trying to not sound bothered by the idea of it, but really, it does. "I dunno, maybe it'd mean more to me if I knew who I was. But I don't, just a name."

*

"Because it's me and you're you," Remy says with a smile. "I think I'm going to need another drink." He stands and stretches slightly, heading toward his kitchen and certainly making himself at home. He grabs another glass, preferably one without ash. "For all dat y'all been through, yer lucky to be alive. Figure since the pretty one didn't put me in jail, I think I owe her one. If I can help, y'all will let me know, right?"

*

"If you have the ability to make a difference, to improve something for someone else, and you don't?" Danny levels a steady look on Marcus. "Then that's when you've gone wrong. That's when you've failed. So, yeah. I help the people I can. That said, if you're looking for something to help with, there's a group of people who're taking shifts keeping an eye on Hell's Kitchen right now. One more body sure wouldn't hurt."

*

"That doesn't make me a hero. Just makes me a some shmuck that's just doing what he thiks is the right thing to do. That's it." Marcus says, shifting uncomfortably in his spot. "I've been doing that, jut didn't know there was others doing it. "

*

Remy listens to Danny's words as he unscrews the bottle of booze and looks into a mirror through the kitchen and across into the dining room. No, not room, the dining cavern. He sighs and closes his eyes for just a moment to put his face on. He pours the drink and makes his way out back towards the others. "Sounds like some bullshit to me, Danneh. Either way, y'all is lucky I'm willin' to help. Gotta make my rounds down in the ABC, but we can meet up in the next day or so and you can introduce me to your monsters."

*

"Vampires, apparently. So load up the heavy explosives," Danny says ruefully as Gambit comes out. "You know where to find me. And I'll be around the area, too. Lots to look out for. Vampires to kill. People to save." She turns to give Marcus a look then, amused. "And you're going to need new clothes again. This is my shocked face."

*

"Yeah, probably." Marcus agrees with a little sheepish look. "Wasn't exactly my intention to get shredded clothes every couple of days but…I just don't have to nice kind of luck to live in one set of clothing and do other stuff with another.."

*

"You care if I stay here for the night? Where I'm staying the girl killed my ex wife and I think she could use the night off from having me on her couch." Gambit downs the drink again. "Thanks." He puts the cigarette out in the glass and begins to walk down the hall. "We'll kill some vampiiiiiires!" he exclaims.

*

"Third bedroom down the hall," Danny calls after Gambit. No need to try to keep him out, after all. But she'd also rather not find him in her bed, or have an argument between him and Marcus about who's sleeping where. There's plenty of space at chez Danny. "You should probably snag a shower," she suggests to Marcus, tipping her head toward the bathroom. "I'll dig up some spare clothes and have Jeryn pick up a decent stockpile this time."

*

If Danny has more than one bedroom, then there's no real problem with him. There's a glance at Gambit as he makes his exit to the third. Then he's focusing on the woman. "You know, I can try to find my own place if being here starts to bother you too much." he finally says after a moment, once they're alone. "Yeah, I probably do, huh. And thanks. Again." Getting really tired of being indebt to people because he's legally dead and can't get a job to save his life.

*

*

"It's not a bother," Danny shakes her head, taking her empty glass back to the sink to fill it with water instead. "Worrying that you might have been dead and not knowing how to get in touch with this magical guy who can supposedly do something about…all of this, that was a little bit of a bother. But honestly?" She takes a drink, smile crooked once she lowers her glass. "I don't get all that bothered in general. Call it all those years of training, I guess."

*

"Well, it's nice that I was remembered." Marcus gets up to his feet, killing the rest of his glass and moving to join her in the kitchen. "I should've left a way for you to get in touch with Strange. But then again, I don't tell you my movements. It's not a good look for me, I guess. It's just weird. Spent a long time by myself after I escaped. I'm not…used to people worrying or relying on me." A frown, putting his glass in the sink. "I'll remember better from now on. And the next I get into some crazy shit, I'll drag you along."

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