[center][img]http://i275.photobucket.com/albums/jj306/Carnage27/ironfist02_zps70jajrxi.jpg[/img][/center] The act of breathing is an automatic, biological exercise. It’s not something anyone or any creature on Earth has to think about, at least until it’s being taken from them. In and out, the air flows into one’s lungs. The oxygen in the air fuels the blood cells, and we exhale the carbon dioxide. It’s the simplest thing for a creature on the planet to do, so none of us think about it. Unless you meditate like the Immortal Iron Fist. Unless you meditate like me. While in meditation, if you’re doing it right, every breath is like the winds of a hurricane. You can feel the power of life itself in the air. The Chi of every living being breathing the same air is like electricity running through my veins. At the height of the inhale and right before the exhale, my power is at its peak. Rolling on the balls of my feat, I spring up out of my meditative state, lashing out with a spinning roundhouse kick, flipping off the foot I land on to drive my momentum forward. Mid flip, I ball my fist and lock my wrist before driving it through the cinder blocks below me. Normally I’d use the Iron Fist to do something like that, but not in this company. “Whoa!” “Awesome!” “No way!” The kids of the Iron Dojo all stand up and cheer. They’re all from Harlem, where the dojo is located. They’re good kids, but that doesn’t mean the place around them is as good. The dojo gives them a place to come after school and keep them out of trouble. I fund tutors to help them with homework, counselors for anything happening at home, and come teach a few lessons myself every week. I have all this money I don’t know what to do with. Might as well start giving things to the people that really need it. “Sensei Danny! Can we do the nunchuks?” A small boy named Billy asks. [color=forestgreen]“That depends,”[/color] I raise an eyebrow, [color=forestgreen]“what did you get on your math test this week?”[/color] Billy looks down and shuffles his feet awkwardly, “Uh...I got a B-...” [color=forestgreen]“Get a B+ on the next one and we’ll do the nunchuks,”[/color] I tussle his hair. [color=forestgreen]“Now, everyone meditate for fifteen minutes and then get to work on your homework.”[/color] Some of them grumble, but most happily get into a meditative pose and get to work. They’re good kids. [center]**********[/center] [b]Heroes for Hire Offices[/b] “He’s in a mood,” Jenny warns as I step through the door of Heroes for Hire. She rolls her eyes, indicating it’s probably nothing all that bad, but the warning is appreciated none the less. “And he has the file on a new job.” [color=forestgreen]“Well, that’s good to know,”[/color] I smile at her and make my way towards Luke’s office. It’s slightly odd being back here after the year abroad...dimensionally and normally. The Tournament of Immortal Weapons had taken up most of the year, fighting for the life of the Seven Cities of Heaven. Fighting for the existence of another dimension isn’t easy, I don’t care what anyone tells you. Being back here is comforting, even if I still don’t know who was behind the invasion we stopped. Opening the door to Luke’s office, I find him peering out the window to the street below, [color=forestgreen]“I hear you’re throwing a temper tantrum. Need a drink?”[/color] [color=gold]“Ha-fuckin’-ha,”[/color] he turns around. [color=gold]“I almost got made on our last job. Misty had some friends erase the street cam footage. I told you we shouldn’t have tried to fight a gang in broad fucking daylight.”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“They were shaking people down!”[/color] I defend myself. [color=forestgreen]“I wasn’t gonna let that happen.”[/color] [color=gold]“Yea well you got a billion dollars to buy your way outta jail,”[/color] he shoots back. [color=gold]“I don’t have that luxury.”[/color] I sigh and rub the back of my neck. As close as Luke and I have become over the past years, sometimes our differences still get in the way. He’s had to struggle for everything in this life. K’un-Lun wasn’t a cakewalk, but I still had every advantage, not even counting the money I inherited afterwards. He isn’t wrong about being made, though. In the current climate, with the Mutant Registration Act, the feds are always looking to put a new meta behind bars as an example. He isn't a mutant, but the authorities have shown they're shit at telling the difference. There is no way I would ever let that happen though. [color=forestgreen]“Man, you know my money is your money,”[/color] I shrug and smile meekly at him. [color=gold]“Yea, I know. You were at the dojo?”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“Yea. It was my night for lessons.”[/color] [color=gold]“Well, we got a job while you were out,”[/color] Cage tosses the file my way. As I flip through it, he continues talking, [color=gold]“Police officer was killed in a drive-by, supposedly. The police have suspects in custody, brothers of some punk he put away years ago.”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“But there’s a catch, I take it?” The case[/color] from the file seems pretty cut and dry. Pictures of the crime scene show a wall and front door riddled with bullet holes, a man’s body strewn across the floor, and a family torn apart by violent crime. I don’t see where there could be any more to this story. [color=gold]“The wife and their adult daughter were there when it happened. Both are in critical condition, but Claire said they should be alright,” Luke [/color]explains. Claire Temple, our nurse friend who stitches us up on the side when we need it. It’s dangerous to actually go to a hospital as a vigilante, with it being against the law and everything. [color=gold]“Claire says they claim the officer was killed by a single shot to the head before the hail of bullets started. They think this was an assassination masked to look like a drive-by. She told them about us, and the family wants us to look into it.”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“Ballistics?”[/color] [color=gold]“They match two AKs that were found with the suspects,”[/color] Luke shrugs. [color=gold]“Claire tried to get a look at the body, but it’s on lockdown.”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“Well, that won’t be a problem for a kung fu master!”[/color] I smile broadly like an idiot. [color=forestgreen]“You go talk to the family if you can, I’m going to inspect some corpse bullet holes...Our job is terrible, by the way.”[/color] I honestly hate what we have to do. Not putting away bad guys that deserve it, or helping the people in need. It’s that the people are in need in the first place. Most of our jobs are because the cops either are too busy to solve a case or too corrupt to bother. These people are down on their luck, and the system would chew them up and spit them out if it wasn’t for us. We usually don’t take payments, as I have more than enough money to keep the business afloat and Luke and I fed. It’s a point of contention for Cage, as he feels like I’m giving him charity. It’s a pride thing I understand, but I can’t accept payment from these people. [color=gold]"Yea, well, it was your idea,”[/color] he shoots back. [color=forestgreen]“I bet Superman doesn’t have to break into morgues to look at bullet holes,”[/color] I grumble. [color=gold]“Can’t he look through walls?”[/color] [color=forestgreen]“I don’t know. I always forget to ask when we’re at Superpowered White Dude Club.”[/color] [color=gold]“Jackass,”[/color] Luke holds back a laugh as we head out to start investigating. [center][b][color=forestgreen]The Immortal Iron Fist and Power Man are HEROES FOR HIRE in A SNAKE IN THE GRASS[/color][/b][/center]