Danny accepted Tony's light, and decided to take the offered seat. He took Tony's jabs like a man, an annoyed smile his only reaction.
You don't go into the ring with a master and expect to come out without a bloody nose.
Danny's had wobbled and he managed to spill some on his jacket. "Sorry, sorry- my bad" Danny said, glad he hadn't gotten any on Tony's immaculate office furniture. Danny pulled off his old wool coat, setting it down on the floor to keep it out of the way.
Underneath he was wearing a tight white undershirt, leaving his shoulders and neck exposed. It was hard to miss the myriad of cruel scars running along his arms, becoming more severe as they disappeared under his shirt. He was emaciated, his wiry arms and body looking muscular in the sense that he was devoid of any fat- but he was clearly underweight.
Danny coughed, feeling self-conscious. He knew he didn't look good. But that was life. "Thanks Miss Lang" Danny said, waving sheepishly at her.
He turned back to Tony, jumping from his coffee back to his cigarette. "So my building in North Harlem's been a ruin since the 'Retribution'. I was AWOL, my company was busy spending itself into oblivion. But one way or another, a few key items of mine were lifted from the rubble." He looked at Tony out of the corner of his eye. "Would you know anything about that?"