1659/A Long-Expected Meeting Pt. 1

A Long-Expected Meeting Pt. 1
Date of Scene:	13 May 2020
Location:	Shang-Chi's Home
Synopsis:	Lady Shiva pays a visit to the Master of Kung-Fu, with precisely the request you might think.
Cast of Characters:	Shang-Chi, Sandra Wu-San

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Shang-Chi has posed:
Evening falls on Gotham's Chinatown, and the warehouse owned by one Shang-Chi is, as usual, empty save for one lone occupant...the aforementioned Master of Kung-Fu. What is he doing? Training, naturally. Well, more like cooling down from hours of training, moving through the graceful movements and measured breathing of Tai-Chi. He is dressed in the traditional black silk trappings of traditional Chinese attire. His eyes are closed, but his senses remain alert, even in this state of relaxation. It may not appear so to the casual observer, but the far less-casual observer would likely still be able to tell otherwise.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
The light is dim in the street, that moment at dusk before the street lamps turn on and objects take on an ethereal look to them. A woman stands at the Dojo door, listening, the low light outlines a slender form that belies the strength hidden by her double breasted coat in dull red silk, the color of old blood, and loose black trousers. It's a homage to the reputation of the man she is about to visit. Centered and without haste she knocks to announce her presence, then squares her shoulders, aligning the glossy black braid that falls down her back to the exact middle of her back.

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shang-Chi's eyes open a moment or three before the knock. It's not a break in concentration so much as sudden awareness of a disturbance in the Fo-errr in the currents of Ki that surround and bind all living th-...look, it's not the Force, OK? Except when it kinda is. It's where the idea for the Force came from! Sort of.

But all that aside, Shang-Chi is aware of the presence outside his door. He is aware that there are but a handful in the world that would carry an aura of Ki strong enough to be detected at that range. He is also aware that someone with that level of Ki could likely mask themselves if they wished. So it's not an ambush.

So Shang-Chi crosses the space to the single ordinary door to the warehouse that Sandra Wu-San waits behind, and opens it, regarding the visitor for a moment before he speaks.

"Shiva Wu-San, I presume?"

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Formality deeply instilled by the training she has received over the years, second nature to her now, inclines her head and shoulders in an exact bow. There is no swagger or show in her posture, Shiva wastes no time in needless shows of strength or mastery.

"Precisely, so. I had looked forward to finding you in Gotham while I passed through. I take it I have the pleasure of meeting Shang-Chi, himself." She repeats the bow waiting for his invitation into his sanctum.

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shang-Chi returns the bow with all the formality intact and mirrored. "You do. I cannot say your arrival is entirely unexpected even if I had no idea of what day and hour it might occur." He steps aside, beckoning for her to enter.

"Would you care for tea? I believe I presently have Oolong and Jasmine available." Is he relaxed? Yes, after a fashion, but that makes him no less ready. Not that he is expecting a cowardly strike from behind. That would not be in keeping with the reputation of the woman he now invites into his home, however deadly it may otherwise be.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
"You needn't go to all the trouble," she demurs, the Chinese training running through her blood as deeply as those of her ancestors. Following him, she keeps a distance that neither threatens or reassures. There must be some measure of trust between those like themselves that practice the martial arts as a way of life. The smile that begins in her eyes does not quite reach her lips.

Shang-Chi has posed:
"Nonsense. You are my guest. I may be able to scrounge up some Earl Grey if you are feeling a little more towards the Western sensibility this evening." He passes through the bulk of the warehouse at a pace neither unhurried nor leisurely. Plenty of training equipment about, that's for certain, though it leans far more towards the rustic and industrial in style than high-tech.

It seems clear their destination lies in what would have been the office of the warehouse in years past.

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
The aesthetics tell her so much about the inner man, less taken by appearances and more interested in the utility of the equipment they pass, neither effete or making a show. This pleases her though her face remains as unruffled as a placid lake. "Again, I wouldn't want to put you to this effort for me. I'm imposing on you, perhaps, by not announcing myself. But, if you insist," she says, changing the form in a bow to the modern world. "Oolong, would be perfect."

Shang-Chi has posed:
"I do insist. Oolong it shall be." Shang-Chi heads up the stairs to a converted office space that presents an apartment about as rustic as the space below. Nothing is in particularly poor repair, but by and large it is spartan in decor and utility, barring perhaps the small shrine where incense burns, and a few odds and ends on the wall, all of sentimental more than monetary value. Very much the living space of an ascetic with just the barest touches of modern convenience.

In either case, a pot of water is soon set to boil, and Shang-Chi beckons towards the few available seats, "By all means make yourself comfortable. May I ask to what I owe the honor of your visit?"

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Seating herself with her feet tucked under her, back straight without a hint of stiffness, palms aligned on her thighs, she inclines her head at the question. "I have a student that brings me to Gotham. But, not only that."

Black eyes study him calmly for a moment, some decision having been reached, she nods subtly, this time to an inner dialogue that she allows him to see.

"I wish to spar with someone of your mastery. Often, as you know, I fight with no limitations set on the match. I neither seek your death or my own. Afterwards, perhaps, we will talk about the state of the world and our respective roles in it."

Shang-Chi has posed:
"I had expected it may be something along those lines." Shang-Chi arrays the small pot and pours the hot water over a diffuser of Oolong leaves. Leaving it to steep, he turns his attention to his guest.

"I think perhaps discussion first. I will make no argument that you are among the few that are a sparring partner that meets or exceeds my own skill. The prospect of such a sparring partner is on the surface a pleasant one." He readies the cup, but the tea still steeps as he leans against a counter.

"But in that sparring, you will learn as well. Your skill will grow. And that skill may be used in the service of my most hated foes."

Sandra Wu-San has posed:
Obsidian eyes glitter as she watches him pour the tea. His discourse manifesting the confidence she expected from him. "We will both learn then. Do not expect to fight me without learning," she says, mildly though her voice is adamant as her black eyes.

"As I said, we will discuss this after we fight."

Shang-Chi has posed:
Shang-Chi studies Shiva with a level stare, not exactly angry, not exactly excited. Perhaps...a bit resigned. There was an inevitability to it, wasn't there? He had suspected this was her goal from the first, if she wasn't here to try to kill him.

"Very well."

He responds, and steps away from the counter moving to lead the way back out to the warehouse.