13304/Dumplings in Chinatown

Dumplings in Chinatown
Date of Scene:	17 May 2021
Location:	Chinatown
Synopsis:	Lunch? Not when there are demons about. Dispatched. Now there's healing to be had.
Cast of Characters:	Xiang Zhao, Vitali Svyatoslav, Beast

---

Xiang Zhao has posed:
It's been a day or two since Xiang Zhao had last seen Henry, and that morning when he'd seen Vitali. A note as to his plans for the day had been left when he'd gone out, early this morning, while the Siberian had still been asleep. At the end of it, it asked simply to meet for dinner of a sorts around this time, at this location.

A similar note had been sent to the Doctor. Only, not by any phsyical means. Oh no. In Henry's case, a cloud of ash had come to him, wherever he happens to be, through whatever cracks could be found. The cloud had swirled about the blue furred man once, and then circled his right hand. The cloud had condensed, and seemed to be sort of like it was.. unburning. To form a piece of paper about two and a half inches across by around six inches long. On the front, Chinese hanzi that said simply, 'message'. On the back, a similar note to Vitali's. Meet at this time and location for dinner. So long as the note was held onto it, it stayed whole. But the moment Henry let go of it, it seemed to burn, back to the ash it started out as.

Zhao is here, sitting on a wooden table in a park in Manhattan's Chinatown. On the table's surface, a large white paper bag. A proper Chinese tea set, and three cups. He is just finishing with the tea and is pouring steaming water into one of the cups. The other two cups contain leaves of some sort. None of them are the ones Henry had given him, but instead a loose leaf variety he'd gotten right here in Chinatown.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
Xiang Zhao has a habit of leaving early in the morning like that. And that's from the perspective of the Siberian, who tends to wake early in his own right. He woke up at his usual time, which was around dawn, and then went through his usual morning routines. Which happened to involve finding the note and reading it. Meet for dinner? That request brought a smile, even though Zhao wasn't there to see it. He went about his typical day, which involved a certain amount of walking about and enjoying fresh air as well as letting Soraya hunt.

Once it was near enough to the appointed -- requested? -- time, then Vitali started to make his way towards the location that the note had mentioned. The last time he had been in Chinatown by himself had not been a particularly good time. He'd ended up hurt. And so, this time, he's trying to be a bit more careful, a bit more watchful. Just in case. Soraya flies overhead, keeping watch as well.

Once he's arrived at the park, he takes a moment to glance up and towards Soraya, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And then he looks across the park, his dark gaze easily finding Zhao, and he tilts his head a touch to one side, simply watching him. He's dressed in his usual black steel-toed boots, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a light grey turtleneck that has long sleeves. His black hair is neatly braided, which is often the case, the length of it lightly moving against his back as he starts to approach where Zhao is sitting. He stops once he's at the table, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Zhaoshenka," he says softly, inclining his head towards the Chinaman.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy had his message received when he was coming out of the Chrysler building, from a meeting he'd had at 9am. THat had been a bit odd, but then being a blue-furred man wandering around in new york city was a bit odd, too. Strange looks and cussing at he's used to, but not self-de-combusting re-combusting messages are a new one on him. So, he went about the rest of his day of meet and greets, interview sessions and consultant work on latest science offerings and at the appointed time, caught the uptown train to go wander through time square and on into china town.

He arrives wearing an 'I <3 Liberty' baseball cap, complete with uplifted torch on the motif, a baseball jacket and regular jeans. There is only so much blending he can do without artificial help and in Chinatown, it's a little weirder.

Mostly for the same reason that ZHao gave him an odd little study, he looks like some of the beings from folklore. "Greetings and Salutations," is offered as he draws up, drinking a very hot java lava as he arrives.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao has a habit of getting less rest than he really neads, before getting up and going out to do it all over again. Which probably gives the impression that Xiang is meditating when he's out and about too, not just at home. This time, at least the area of Chinatown is a good one, and not the gang infested area Vitali had gone to the last time. No, this is a good part of Chinatown. The streets and sidewalks clean. The park well kept and maintained. The picnic table is even in a shady spot under some trees. It's an ideal location.

Today, Xiang is in blue robes, a rich sapphire blue with threads of white and deep blue reminsicent of flowing water. His hair is pulled back much as it always is. The top and sides gathered into a looped tail and secured with a bit of silk and that white hair stick. "Ah'Tali," he greets, his words soft and welcoming, he looks over as the Siberian approaches.

"How has your day been? No signs of the Doctor yet? I invited him also." So, it wasn't actually a date, and Xiang has no idea how those two questions might be taken by the first to arrive. And then there is said Doctor, and Zhao waves one hand, the long sleeve of his robe flowing gracefully with the motion. "Please, both of you have a seat."

And proceeds to open the paper bag. Out comes traditional Chinese dishes, in plastic containers that Vitali would be familiar with as something Zhao had bought to store leftovers in. He places them in the center of the table, along with napkins, chopsticks, and then smaller, ceramic bowls that match the tea set. The ceramics are blue and speckly and quite beautiful.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
It's not a thing that Vitali has really learned how to tell -- the good parts of town from the bad parts of town. For him, there's just areas that are busier and areas that are quieter. Even though he's been in New York City for a few months, he still has a lot to learn. He takes a brief moment, looking out over the park, and then his dark gaze easily returns to Zhao, a smile tugging the corners of his lips anew. "Is pretty park, is good choice," Vitali says softly, giving a small nod.

"Has been good day. Quiet day. Walk fair bit. Is nice day," Vitali says, tilting his head a touch to one side. "How has your day been?" he asks, a flicker of curiosity coming to his voice. "Know you leave early. Before sun come," he says, a smile tugging his lips. There's a slight quirk of one of his eyebrows at the mention of the doctor having been invited, and he gives a small nod, apparently accepting it. A moment later, he looks up towards Soraya, then tilts his head faintly to one side before his attention comes back to Zhao, and he chuckles softly before giving a small nod in the direction the doctor is approaching from. He likes having 'eyes in the sky', for the small advantage that it gives him. "Good evening, Doctor," he offers in greeting, giving a nod towards him.

Vitali steps a touch closer to the table before taking a seat and looking over the containers of food that Zhao has brought out onto the table. "Is pretty tea set, as well. Like blue," he says softly.

Beast has posed:
"Hello gentlemen," Finishing off his coffee, Hank disposes of it in a trashcan only to be surprised by "Ooooh, tea! Oh gosh, this looks fancy. If I screw up on drinking etiquette, please forgive me, I'm incredibly rusty." Settling down, to him the meal is a subtle array of scents washing all over the air, enticing and exotic and his stomach gives a loud rumble to the tune of 'feeeed meeeh' which should surprise absolutely nobody.

He takes a seat though, examining the tea-set and the ricebowls with a faint smile for the simple elegance. "I always feel as if I might break things so very dainty. I never do, but they match my outfit." He jokes with a glance up at his dark blue bangs, winking at the two of them. "I hope the day finds you well? I swear, I talked the leg off a donkey today."

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Once it's figured out what signs to look for, telling good neighborhoods from bad is fairly easy. How clean the streets and sidewalks are. What sort off repair the buildings are in. How clean and well dressed the people are, how happy they look. Once it's figured out, the Siberian might well blush at how easy it is. At the compliment of his choice of locations, Xiang Zhao inclines his head to the Siberian in a formal seeming gesture. It really is a good park. And not all that many people are here, though through the screen of trees, children can be heard playing on a swing set.

"My day has been well. I helped a meili de ayi <tr: beautiful aunt> build a shed beside her house." By which means, he probably built it for her. "And cleaned a neighborhood pond of youling qingwa <tr: ghost frogs>. It has been a good day." It sounds like a full day, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. "I did leave early," he agrees. "I wanted an early start to try to find the things that have been terrorizing the neighborhood I spoke of. Ghosts, is all I know. But I do not know what kind yet." He pauses. "This neighborhood. My pardon if they turn up during dinner." He sounds rather sheepish at that, not having considered that might happen!

"The meili de ayi allowed me the use of her kitchen, so I decided to invite you two and make us dinner." One of the dishes is dumplings, another rice with diced veggies in it, one with chicken steamed with a red, spicy scented sauce, and last with thinly sliced strips of beef in a brown sauce that also holds hints of spice but also a savory scent. It's a good set. "Help yourselves." The bowls have been set before each of them, along with chopsticks and a cup of tea, the traditional variety. There's very little to the tea ceremony from Xiang other than pouring and placing the cups for the other two men. "Thank you, ah'Tali. It is from home. One of the sets my muqin <tr: mother> sent me."

He starts to help himself as he'd suggested, getting some rice, a pair of dumplings, and some meat from each of the meat dishes. It appears he's hungry, for he doesn't even wait before he starts digging in. And it's quite good once dug into. Very tasty and filling. "Soraya is welcome to join. She has had the chicken before, but not the beef." This is the first time he'd cooked that, so it's new.

Though there isn't a smile from Xiang, his features soften and one corner of his mouth quirks up. "The only etiquette is to enjoy the tea and meal," he says to Henry. There is no surprise at the demand of the doctor's stomach. Though the ceramics look quite delicate and dainty, they're actually pretty sturdy and will stand up to a fair amount of abuse. So long as they're not dropped on concrete, they should be fine! Even dropping on concrete probably won't entirely shatter them. Break them in two, maybe... Xiang's lips twitch upward at the corners with the joke about Henry's outfit. "Do you not mean my outfit for the matching?" Oooh, did he just joke back?? He tilts his head. "What is a donkey?"

Just as the sun dips behind the trees and touches the horizon, the shadows lengthen and darken far more than they should be, for the sun hasn't well and truly set just yet. The darkness seems to be coming from a pair of humans. Creatures? One of them is thin, dressed as a male in traditional Chinese robes, so thin as to be skeletal but for the skin and clothing covering his body. His eyes glow, and seem to be made of flame. The woman, also dressed in traditional Chinese robes, but feminine ones, has a shapely figure and long, silver hair. Hair that writhes in an almost creepy manner and doesn't move quite right to be /hair/. At the far end of the park from the three about to have dinner, the pair are moving straight toward the happy children on the swing set.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
"Is not needing forgiving. Tea is for enjoying, for drinking... to share with friends," Vitali says, quirking a bit of a smile. Tea is different, in his native home, than what it is in China, but the ceremony of tea isn't something that he holds fast to. He tilts his head a touch to one side, his dark gaze turning to the doctor, and he gives a small nod. "Cups have same shade, is true. Is good day, da," he affirms. Then one of his eyebrows quirks up a bit, a puzzled expression finding his features. "Am not understanding. Why hurt donkey by make talk?" he asks. He tends to take things a bit literally, and sayings don't always translate well, which leads to confusion.

From above, Soraya gives a soft call, but she remains aloft, gliding in wide lazy circles above the park. Vitali turns his dark gaze to Zhao, listening as the other man relates his own day, and he gives a small nod. "Am glad have had good day. Sound like full day. Am not knowing some words are using," he says, a thoughtful note to his voice. He tilts his head slightly to one side, his brow furrowing a little bit. "Ghosts? Are meaning spirits or meaning things with flesh?" Vitali asks, a flicker of curiosity coming to both his voice and to show in his eyes. Depending on the type might well determine what the Siberian might be able to do. "Will help, if can. If ghosts come for dinner, will offer tea," he adds, the latter having a touch of amusement to it.

"Was very kind of meili de ayi to let use kitchen. All smell very good," he says, giving a small nod. "Give many thanks for invite to dinner. Is very kind, are very good cook," he adds, glancing towards Zhao before his attention turns to the food. He picks up a pair of chopsticks from next to his bowl before he starts to help himself to the food as well -- which for him means taking a bit of everything that's available. "Are welcome, Zhaoshenka," he says, a smile easily coming to his features.

He brings his bowl closer to himself before he takes a bite of one of the dumplings, and his gaze turns skyward for a moment. To watch Soraya, and he tilts his head slightly to one side. "Soraya say will eat later. She say thank you. She say is doing important thing right now," he says, then turns his gaze to Zhao as he gives a small nod, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He falls quiet, as he eats.

When things get a little bit on the creepy side, Soraya gives a call that has the tones of warning in it. Yet even before that warning comes, Vitali has turned his gaze in the direction of where the swing set and children happen to be. He tilts his head a touch to one side, considering, and he concentrates for a moment before moving the fingers of his right hand and making a slight murmur of sound. A dome of water appears over the children and the swingset, which is the best option from this distance. The intent being to keep the children safe and the 'ghosts' away from them.

Beast has posed:
"Donkey is a beast of burden. I don't think they have them much in China... like a very small, ornery pony with long ears?" Hank attempts to explain, to a cultural displacement issue. Drawing out his cellphone, he stands up when it acts weird and goes a few feet away, to get a picture of a donkey, which he holds up to Xiang at range. THat, my friend, is a donkey. He returns to the table, tucking in with dextrous flare with the chopsticks, easily as good as a native, simply because of his mutation. And then another snag: "Hyperbole. In the english language there are many things that in russian are sayings that have the same kind of meaning," he explains. In russian: "You do not teach your grandmother how to suck eggs." And in chinese: "A sharp tongue or pen, can kill without a knife." He shrugs, going onward, ever onward. "It would be impossible to talk the leg off a donkey, but one would suppose that a body might give it a damn good crack and the ass would attempt to chew its own leg off to get away from the droning of a voice."

The weirdness across the park has him partially turning, but not actually looking that way. That creepy feeling that begins in the small of the back and prickles up the spine, has him a little wary. "My compliments to the cook and the lovely aunt that allowed you to use her kitchen for your assistance." a pause is given to think upon things. "I think Ghost is a generic term for spirits that aren't quite erm... well, negative? I am not a ghost by the by. I am a human being that underwent a transformation, almost I suppose, like a possession by an animal spirit. I have no idea what my animal spirit might be, but apparently it's blue and fuzzy..."

But then there's more of that disturbing feeling and he sets his chopsticks down to turn and get a good look at what's setting it off. "Those people... they don't look right." Who knows if he sees them precisely the same way, given he is not a magic user of any stripe. "What's going on?"

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao nods to what the Siberian has said about tea being for sharing with friends and enjoying. "Mm." Agreement! Though the tea ceremony is a big thing in China, Xiang's home community is pretty darn backwards compared to the rest of China. Very remote. So while they have a tea ceremony, it's more akin to the ceremonies in ancient China rather than the present day, and it shows in how relaxed Xiang is where tea is concerned. Xiang looks between Henry and Vitali, and back to Henry. He too, wants to know why a donkey, whatever that is, lost its leg for talking.

"It was a bit full. But the company and accomplishments made it worthwhile." He finishes a bite of his food and sips some tea before answering Vitali's question. "Ghosts are things with flesh. Spirits are spirits. When I say ghost, I always mean things with flesh that are not human and are not evil. Demons are things with flesh that are evil." There's a faint curl to his lips. "You are welcome, ah'Tali. And thank you. I am just an okay cook, though." That's not what the food says, though! The food is very good. Maybe he's considered just okay where he comes from.

He glances to Henry and considers. "Do you mean a lu <tr: donkey.>?" Yes, they very much have them in China. Even more so where Xiang's from, where they don't have many motorized vehicles. "We have those in Xiang clan, as well as horses for riding and pulling things." He looks at the image from the distance, and nods. "That is a lu," he affirms. He actually laughs at Henry's words about the donkey chewing its own leg off. Yes. An actual /laugh/. From Xiang Zhao. Who rarely even cracks a smile!

"Mm." He glances up to the eagle overhead. "Keeping watch is important," he agrees. He's mostly finished with his food when the creepiness appears. He pauses and his head tilts. "There is an odd feel, that way," he says, half a second before Soraya calls her warning. He turns his head in the direction he's meaning, and sees the ghosts. "Well. Those are hungry ghosts, a type of demon," he says thoughtfully. "No wonder the neighborhood has been wary when it gets close to dark."

He doesn't glance toward Henry now, but he does answer back to him. "In my world, you would be considered a ghost, as you do not look human, but I will take your word for it that you are human and not ghost." There's a faint hint of amusement on his face. "Time to work, I think." Zhao leaves his food and such where it is, and rises to his feet. He retrieves his fan from the top of the picnic table as he turns to start toward the demons. "I recognize them. The thin one, the male, can spit fire." He glances at Vitali as he states this, then looks back to the demons. "The female has hair made of something almost like sharp wire. The wires are sharp enough to cut like a warm knife through butter. Be wary."

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
"Da, am knowing donkey. Is village near home but not home, have donkeys. Home village, have horses. Like horses better," Vitali says, giving a small nod, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head a bit to one side, watching Henry move away to be able to get the picture on his phone, and then he gives a small nod. "Da, is osel. Is donkey," he affirms. He looks to Zhao, and for a moment... he's simply distracted by and rather enjoying the sound of Zhao's laughter. He blinks a little bit, and one of his eyebrows quirks up a touch as he looks back to Henry. "Hyperbole...?" he asks, saying the word carefully. He doesn't know it, and isn't familiar with it. He quirks a grin then at the Russian that's spoken, and he gives a nod, his dark eyes showing a flicker of amusement. "Da, is true," he affirms. "Prababushka, babushka <tr: great grandmother, grandmother> not appreciate be tell how to do things," he adds. Then he raises an eyebrow slightly, imagining that for a moment, and he gives a small shake of his head. "Have see animals do before. Rabbit chew paw off to free from snare. Is... messy," he says in a soft tone.

"Da, must agree. Very good food. Enjoy much," Vitali says, looking to Zhao and giving a small nod. He blinks at part of Henry's words, then tilts his head to one side as he studies the blue fellow. There's a slight narrowing of his eyes as a part of that scrutiny that happens, and then he gives a small shake of his head. "Nyet, are not possessed," he says, his tone holding certainty within it.

"Will try to remember, Zhaoshenka. Am not knowing ghosts as things with flesh," Vitali says, a sheepish sort of smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Spirits, well... those he might be able to do a little bit more with. Although it's not always a safe journey to embark on, and one that he hasn't done as of yet. "Are better than just okay cook. Are better cook than me," Vitali adds, giving a small nod. He rather enjoys Zhao's cooking, and it does seem to mean that he ends up with more vegetables in his diet than what he otherwise would. It's a good thing!

Vitali gives a small nod to Zhao, and he picks up his cup of tea to finish the last of it before setting the cup aside. Then he rises smoothly to his feet, apparently... weaponless. A part of his concentration holds upon the hollow water dome that he'd erected over the swingset and the children, simply to keep the magic in place. Then he tilts his head a touch to one side and looks to Zhao as the information is offered about the ghosts. The thought of something that can spit fire is enough to make the Siberian shift his shoulders a bit in an effort to avoid the slight shiver that chases down his spine. "Will need be careful. Not liking fire," he says quietly. He has Reasons. "Can maybe bundle hair of female one in ice," he offers, glancing towards Zhao and walking with him towards the demons.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy looks wistfully at the food, sighs lightly with it. "Well, at least it smells like it will taste just as good cool..." and listens to the instructions regarding the hungry ghosts. It's always good to be appraised of dangers before you run smack-dab into the middle of them. He fans out from the picnic table, making an intercept line ahead of the ghosts and keeps an eyeball of where the other two are.

He means of course, to get between them and the children, to add an extra layer of thing in the way of innocent lunch. In chinese: "You need a new hairdresser, the one you have been seeing would not be fit to play with sea-kelp."

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao nods, agreeing about horses versus donkeys. Horses are in general a lot less stubborn than donkeys. If Zhao notices Vitali's scrutiny, and he almost certainly does, over his laugh, he does not comment on it. "Mm. Me too." Animals, chewing off their own feet or legs when trapped. Messy is the mild way to put it.

"I might be using the wrong Engish word. What would be a better word for what I term to be a ghost or demon?" There is another nod to Vitali. "Nobody sane likes fire being used on them as a weapon." He considers the situation. Considers his own selection of spells. "I can block the female's hair with my magic, and the male's fire. I will deal with the one using fire. You two take care of the other? If I need help, I will call."

Xiang moves then, toward the male ghost, nodding to Henry as he moves to protect the children along with Vitali's water dome. It is good. "The only way to kill them is to remove their heads and burn the bodies." He pauses. "Or to find out why they are angry and put them to rest." He continues toward the fire breather. With his left hand, he cups it in a certain way, like he's cupping water, and lifts it. Pale misty tendrils of power can be seen, much like when he meditates. Softly glowing wisps of fog. He lifts his hand up a bit, and holds it there.

Predictably, the fire breather does his thing, and lobs fire at Xiang. It's not quite as Xiang had described it. It's not precisely fire. There's an almost liquid sort to it, like napalm. And as bits of it hit the ground, the fire clings there, and smoulders on the green grass. Xiang shoves his hand out, palm toward the ghost, and his magic coalesces into a moving misty wall just big enough to intercept the fire coming at him, cupped with the inward curve facing the ghost. He moves his hand and the magic slides forward. The fire hits it. Xiang grunts. The wall holds, the fire bounces back toward the ghost. The wall dissipates. "Who wronged you?" The question is in Mandarin.

The female ghost bares teeth at Henry. They're fang-like, much like a vampire would sport. "Speak for yourself. You look like an unkempt blueberry." The reply is in Mandarin also.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There's a look to Henry, and Vitali quirks a bit of a smile as he gives a small nod. "Is good when not hot, as well," he affirms. He's eaten leftovers of Zhao's food right out of the fridge before. He rather enjoys Zhao's food. He tilts his head a touch to one side, and then he gives a small shrug on the matter of English words. "Am not sure, Zhaoshenka. Am not strong on English words. Different meaning not mean word wrong, da?" he suggests, a smile coming to his features. He's quiet a moment, considering Zhao's words about fire, and considering what he should say. "Mmm... fire burn faster. Make worse burns. On me," he adds quietly, looking towards Zhao. It's a vulnerability, for him.

There's a raised eyebrow as he looks to Henry at the Mandarin that he speaks, and in that moment is perhaps when Vitali realizes that he has something of a disadvantage. He doesn't speak Mandarin, he doesn't understand it. And in this sort of situation, there isn't necessarily the opportunity for things to be translated. And then he looks back to Zhao at the instructions, and he gives a small nod to affirm that he's heard. "Will do best, Zhaoshenka. Be careful," he says softly, his dark gaze lifting to Zhao's for a moment.

The Siberian gives a soft murmur of sound, and there's a slight gesture of the fingers of his right hand, and a long and curved blade of ice -- a shashka, for those familiar with it -- appears within his hand. He takes a moment to focus his concentration a bit more, pulling more water to have tendrils of it lick the flames that try to burn the grass, to put them out -- or at least, to do his level best to do so. Though his attention is a bit divided, he doesn't seem particularly taxed... yet.

Beast has posed:
"On the contrary, I look like a moldy blueberry, but it's all natural," Hank replies in mandarin, shaking his head with his hands held akimbo on either side, squared and between the ghost and the children now. He has no magic, a magical creature might be a challenge for him to face. "But you, lady steel-wire are not getting any nearer to the children." The implication is obvious, that she'd have to go through him first.

He does not however, make first moves, instead crouching down where he's planted himself, into an ox stance, with a growl that shows his own fangs, which rather resemble those of a gorilla. His gaze on the creature is steady, "Your move."

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao doesn't comment on whether or not his food is good cold. He's eaten it cold himself before, as well as reheated. But, to him, it's just food, one way or another. He nods to Vitali about the fire harming him worse than others. With him being an ice and water mage, that does make a certain amount of sense. And it's a good thing he'd chosen to take on the fire ghost himself. And then there's Henry, with fur, which has a tendency all its own to be flammable.

"I will be. You be careful too." No translations are offered, since at present, nothing said in Mandarin has been overtly relevant or important.

Vitali's efforts to put out the fires smouldering in the grass.... but it's not entirely successful. The stuff burns like napalm. Maybe ice will do it where water doesn't? The fire continues burning stubbornly, though the grass itself is put out.

The female ghost bares her teeth at Henry again. And hisses. Like a pissed off cougar. Which might be apt in this case, she appears to be an older woman. She doesn't bother to reply to his words this time. But she does move, right as he speaks the words inviting her to move. Or rather, her hair moves. She doesn't. It strikes out on silver tendrils, aiming straight for his torso and arms, to cut and rend. If it lands. For the moment, she ignores the Siberian mage, focusing her all on the Beast.

The male glares at Xiang Zhao and speaks in Mandarin. "There is no righting the wrongs done. I wish to live. For that, I need their internal energy to bring myself back to life!" Oh. We have a fanatic. His words might not be obvious to Vitali, but his tone is unmistakeable. He spits fire at Xiang again, up high this time in an arch. Xiang does as before lifting his hand and shoving the magic out in a certain way. It cups toward the fire and catches it, splashing it back toward the ghost. Who doesn't seem at all affected by his own fire splashing over him, though it burns merrily. So now, we have a ghost that spits fire, burning. It dashes toward Xiang now, arms outstretched as though to tackle the mage in a bear hug.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There's a glance towards Henry, listening to the flow of Mandarin even though he doesn't understand any part of it. He only knows a handful of words in the language. It's... frustrating, to him. Almost as frustrating as not being able to speak as well as what he'd like to in English. But there are bigger things to be dealt with right now, and he keeps his focus on the situation and on his magic.

He looks over to Zhao, and he gives a small nod. "Will do best. Always," he says softly, a smile quirking at the corners of his lips. He always at least tries to be careful, even if he isn't always successful.

With water not working as Vitali had expected them to, he instead takes a bit of a different tack on them. The water instead coats the bits of fire, and then he murmurs softly and gives a slight movement of the fingers of his left hand in order to freeze the water there -- colder than what normal ice would be. If the fire isn't controlled, then it could become problematic -- he's seen the grasslands burn after a lightning strike in the summer, he knows what can happen. At least with normal fire.

Though it had been suggested for Vitali to not engage the fire demon, he's still paying attention to it. To what it's doing, to that part of the fight. The tone of the words is more what pulls his attention over to him. There is no real opportunity for thought on the matter -- there is simply a need for action to be taken, especially with the fireball having been rebounded back to the demon by Zhao's magic in such a way as that the creature is burning now. Vitali might later think that was planned by the demon. But right now, Vitali acts -- he makes a gesture of his left hand, shifting his focus. He reaches more into the ability that he has with ice, and he seeks to create a solid block of ice around the demon that's on fire. Starting at the feet and swiftly moving up, if he can. Much like the ice on the grass, a colder than normal variety, and if he's successful in catching it then he'll build the ice up so that it's inches thick. The water dome also freezes solid, turning into ice that's at least a few inches thick. There's only so much of the frozen stuff that he can make, but he makes it a denser variety. Decisions needed to be made, and for better or for worse, Vitali decided. At least with the water now ice, he can release his focus from controlling it and hold his attention to the ice.

Beast has posed:
And thusly, Beast is left to the Iron-haired lady. This is not so much of a worry to him, as she lashes out with the hair, he sommersaults backwards, side-flips an arabesque and promptly kicks a park trashcan toward her at rather high speed. Dodging is something he's so very familiar with doing, what with danger-room practices, that it comes as second nature. Whilst the can is flying, he ducks down to the ground housing and the cooper iron that holds the can to the spot and rips it out of the ground, straightening the round and bending it in half to make a simple tonfa, the better to parry sharp hair with. In Mandarin: "Why do you hunger? Who wronged -you-?"

And he does NOT pay attention to the fire and the ice, as to do so would divide his focus and that, when fighting a potentially dangerous opponent is not a wise move. He likes to think he's wise, if occasionally foolhardy.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
And this is anything but normal fire. It's magical fire. And the bits of it stick and cling where they land, too. Like globs of goo from an ooze. It's almost surprising that the're not burning right through the demonic ghost. But they aren't. The bits on the grass now encased in ice, however, soon go out, a combination of lack of oxygen and the cold.

With the water dome now turned to ice, it's not so hot this evening that it'll melt quickly. That should hold with no further attention from Vitali. For now. Within it, the kids are shrieking, panicking. The worry now will become a lack of oxygen within the dome, once the kids have used up all of it that was within the water barrier.

Zhao blinks at the fire demon now encased in ice, nods once to Vitali, and turns his attention to the wire haired demon going after Henry. The demon steps to the side of the incoming trash bin and shrieks, a high pitched sound that goes above normal human hearing ranges, that bores itself into skulls. "Murder!" This can just be made out, in Mandarin, within the shrieked sound.

Xiang winces and grits his teeth, and while the demon female is distracted with Henry, he makes another gesture, cupping the magic, and bringing it forth. Focuses it, and unleashes it toward the demon with the hair. His magic sails, in a visible arch, straight toward the demon female at about her neck height. It glimmers and sparkles, almost like crystal brought to life. And the leading edge looks deadly sharp.

As though sensing something the demon's hair lashes out and Zhao's magic shatters into a thousand tiny shards. The shards glitter as they dissipate, the magic broken. Zhao staggers at the backlash of having his spell shattered that way, his face paling. That had to have been painful, to say the least.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There's a moment that Vitali takes in order to look over towards Henry when he hears the trash can be kicked, and there's a faint nod as he sees that the doctor seems to be handling himself well. Yet his attention turns readily back, first towards the fire spots that had beensmothered by ice, and then turning to the demon that he had encased in ice. Double checking it, perhaps, though he is sure of his magic. He wasn't about to let it give Zhao a fiery hug, after all.

He doesn't worry over the ice dome, at the moment -- it's a fair size, and depending on the number of children within it, it should have enough air for what will hopefully be long enough. Vitali gives a small nod to Zhao, a hint of a smile. The demon isn't dead, but it is trapped, at least, which seems to him to be a step in the right direction. His attention swiftly turns towards the female demon at the shriek she emits, wincing faintly at the sharpness of the sound. It's not a pleasant sound at all, not even to ears that are used to the shrieks of eagles.

He starts to approach the demon, but pauses at catching sight of that arch of magic from Zhao. He looks towards Zhao, giving a small nod and taking half a step back. And for a moment, he watches, as it arcs towards the demon. Then the demon seems to sense it, but worse than that to use its hair to shatter it. He gives a brief glance towards Zhao, then swiftly looks back to the demon. He shifts his position slightly, his weight going back to his hind foot, the curved blade lowered at his side. And as he shifts his weight forward to build momentum and take a step, he brings the ice weapon up and throws it so that it spins on a horizontal. And he nudges the spin with a bit more oomph with just a touch of his ice magic. Towards the demon's neck, though whether or not he'll be successful is a thing that remains to be seen. Maybe it will cut her hair if it doesn't take off her head. Either is a good outcome as far as he's concerned.

Vitali doesn't wait to find out, though. He steps up even before the platform of ice has finished solidifying, his weight falling to it as it is solid. His feet easily settle about shoulder width apart, and he moves the platform a bit quickly in order to bring himself over to be positioned between Zhao and the demon. He made a promise, and he intends to keep. The platform seems to readily dissolve, and he lands lightly on his feet on the ground. Though he has no visible weapon left upon him, he's not weaponless, for he yet has his magic and he's not out of energy to wield it with.

Beast has posed:
"Who murdered you?" Is yelled at the demon in mandarin, by Beast. Then of course, there are other distractions that add to the moment of chaos -- like magic being thrown and intercepted and more magic being thrown but in a rather more literal way. He grimaces at this and resorts thusly, to tapping the demon ghost on well... the hair actually, with the end of his tonfa. "I can't help if you get distracted by them!" And in english "At least she replied! The other one wasn't interested!"

But that's about as much as he dares distract from what's going on here, else he'll be ribboned by cheesewire. Thonking the tonfa on the ground, he backward leaps, doing a flip so that he lands on the balls of his feet once again, some fifteen foot back and off to the side, /away/ from the children it must be said, attempting to encourage the ghost to shift away from the innocent.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Well. She sort of responded! But yes, that is better than the other one. Xiang nods and lifts his hand again, summoning another spell already. The pain is temporary. It will go away soon enough.

The children within the ice dome are on the far side of it away from the fight currently going on. The fiery demon spits more fire at one side of the ice encasing him. It's starting to melt. It's starting to melt very quickly!

And again, the female demon seems to sense the magic coming at her. As she had with Zhao's magic, her hair lashes out and rips Vitali's ice right out of the air, flinging it to crash against his ice dome. The ice cracks where the two bits of ice meet, the sound like an avalanche about to start. The kids within shriek.

The female demon shrieks, no longer interested in whatever it is Henry is saying. Her mouth opens wide, and there are pointy fangs in there. She shrieks and turns to run toward Vitali. Her hands outstretched, fingers crooked like claws, hair writing madly all about her in a silvery halo.

Zhao turns his hand a little bit, and throws the magic again. This time, at the female demons /feet/ instead of her neck. And she's so focused on Vitali, that for the moment, she doesn't seem to see it coming.

And then hops neatly over it. The magic continues on, and Zhao makes a motion, the magic evaporates like it had never been. "Ah'Tali," he calls out in English. "Hi and low!" He gets ready to throw more magic, and then does so, it cutting low again.

Away from the children is good. The male demon has now burned enough fire to melt through the barrier. He leaps toward the blue furred Beast, blowing fire out his mouth as he goes.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
Once Vitali has a greater mastery of English, then perhaps he'll have to see about nudging Zhao to teach him Mandarin. For the time being, he has enough issues with English and the complications that particular language presents. There's a quick glance given towards Henry when there's actually English words, and he raises an eyebrow slightly. Huh? The shriek was a reply? He doesn't have time to give that too much thought, though.

He doesn't look towards the ice dome -- he can sense where the children are on account of that he's still keeping at least a light grasp on his ice magic. It's a useful thing. On the flip side of that coin, he can also sense the ice being melted from around the fire demon, which is a troubling thing. And a troubling thing that he can't readily take a moment to address as he's a touch distracted by what the female demon is doing. Though it's more the shriek of the children in the dome that gets his attention. Lifting his right hand slightly away from his side, he makes a faint motion of his fingers, concentrating briefly on just the crack that had been caused-- just enough to repair it, to hold the structure fast. There isn't time for more than that, given that he's managed to earn more of the demon's attention onto himself. And Vitali has no intention of being caught by her!

He steps up and onto an ice platform that materializes even as he's mid-step, and it scoots him back with some measure of speed that's hopefully greater than the pace that she's running at. For him, at least, the platform is stable -- he's used this sort of thing countless times. Vitali looks to Zhao briefly at hearing his name called, and one of his eyebrows quirks up slightly before he gives a nod. The platform dissolves, and he lands lightly on the ground, his feet shoulder-width apart. He gives a slight flick of his fingers, first the right hand and then the left, summoning a curved and sharp-edged blade much like the one he'd had moments ago, into each hand. He shifts his weight back, and as Zhao casts his own spell, he turns and steps forward, releasing one of the blades aimed high. Vitali's attention shifts over to the fire demon that Soraya warns him of from overhead, and he takes a half-step in that direction before throwing the second blade towards it.

Beast has posed:
Henry McCoy spends a moment, just a moment mind, looking back and forth between mages, female demon, saaaaaaaaailing ice-sword and incoming fire. He can assess quickly, which is a fortunate thing, as there have been many, many hours clocked in the danger room. There's a growl and he leaps onto all fours, racing toward the incoming male demon; he leaps over the gout of flame that comes, lands on the palms of his hands, then up onto the hand furthest as he brings his legs around in a 'horse' manoever if one were in a gymnastics competition, only to aim the full force that he can exert (which is considerable, honestly) in a full on kick to the midriff. If it lands, it will send that demon /flying/ probably quite literally. He lands on the balls of his feet in a crouch and springs after it though, intent on pressing the assault.

And incidentally, should there be an ice-sword deflection, it will likely end up being a double-deflection as his reactions are quick. Seeing that incoming, even if the fire demon reacts to deflect it or blow fire in its direction, he intends to palm-strike it through to hit its mark.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Mandarin is both complicated and simple compared to English. At the same time, no less. He'll be happy to teach it, if asked. Some concepts.. have so very many words for the same thing, with slightly different meanings. And then things that are complicated in English are one or two words in Mandarin. And things that are simple in English, are often complicated in Mandarin.

The crack of ice against the dome had brought more screams of fear from the children. And now from the other side of the park come shouts as adults pelt toward where they had thought their children were playing safely in the playground there.

Vitali's ice platform is fast, but this is a thing that is dead. She has no inhibitors on her muscles or joints to tell her she's going too fast, no air to lose as she runs faster. She keeps up with the ice platform trying to speed Vitali out of her reach. She isn't faster than it, though, so that is a good thing.

.... and then? She leaps, arms outstretched, fingers like claws drive into the ice platform. The hair whips toward Vitali's legs.

But in mid maneuver, the platform disolves and then demon flops, flat on her stomach and chest on the ground, her hair whips past Vitali and misses him entirely. She shakes herself and climbs to her feet. .... just in time to take Zhao's spell to her knees, and Vitali's ice blade to her throat. Down she goes with a shriek.

The ice blade going for the fire demon is seen, and the demon opens its mouth to blast it. But then Henry's maneuver comes, with the demon's attention briefly on the ice blade, takes him entirely by surprise. The kick lands midriff with the sound of crunching ribcage. The demon is sent flying and lands with a thud.

But of course, it's dead so it screams and rolls right back to its feet without even a hint of pain. Now it's eyes, burning with flames of their own, are fixed on Henry. It blows fire at him, and not just a thin stream. A huge fireball. Unfortunately for Henry, the moment his palm touches the hilt of that ice blade, it turns to water and soaks him in the process.

Zhao jogs over to the female demon, but not too close, for her hair is still writhing, and lifts his right hand. Like he's cupping something. Soon enough, a small ball of fire appears there, and he sends it at the female demon's pieces. She shrieks, high pitched and brain piercing. But soon the scream stops and she melts into a puddle of ash that blows away. All that's left is the male demon. Zhao lets the fire go and it goes out fairly quickly.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
Vitali glances towards Henry, his attention following the leaping and tumbling for a moment as it takes the blue furry fellow to the fire demon to attacking it. His attention doesn't linger, though. His dark gaze turns towards the fearful screams from the children's parents, but there's little more he can do for the children's safety. All he can do to guard their safety is hold the dome and keep doing so no matter what the cost happens to be for himself.

While he makes what he does look easy, in some ways, it's mostly only due to how many times he's done similar things. He's had his magic for years, and he's had plenty of opportunity to use it. It's mildly disturbing that she keeps up with him, but moving on the ice platform is faster and easier than running. Safer, too. At least she isn't faster! When she leaps towards him, he knows a brief moment of fear that flickers back when her hair whispers towards him. There's a slight widening of his dark eyes, but the timing of dissolving the ice platform proved to be on his side, and he lets out a breath, relieved if only for a moment. Then the magic that he and Zhao had cast together is enough to take the female demon down.

"Ak Ana, bud' miloserdnym," Vitali says softly as the female demon goes down. Then his attention turns, to the fire demon that he had thrown his second sword towards. There's very little left that he can do with ice,given what he's already done with it so far in the fight. And so he turns his concentration to water instead, giving a soft murmur of sound and a flick of the fingers of his right hand. A curved sheet of water appears between the fireball and Henry, with the intent of catching the former. If he's able to, he'll wrap the water around the fireball as it makes contact. He doesn't allow himself the distraction of looking towards Zhao, though he is assuredly kept aware of what's happening thanks to Soraya and the bond he shares with her. Yet even she tries to limit what distractions she causes to him, circling the makeshift battlefield on such quiet wings.

Beast has posed:
Well, given how that fire seems to burn like napalm, even when soaking wet, that would be a bit of a bother. As it is there's mages - which is good for a fellow's self-esteem, given that targets have changed focus on him a few times now and turned thier attentions elsewhere. Well, hello mister fire face, you're not getting distracted, on grand! When I'm covered in fur.

But it is hardly the time for quipping. Other than: "Nope!" in the cheerful tone of an internet meme, Hank springs left and right, zigzagging past the field of the flame to make the most of being inhumanly quick and agile. "Hi!" this peeped out as he darts behind, he makes to grab the demon from behind as he straightens, aiming one big arm to circle the chest like a steel bar of fur, to pin its arms and the other hand, complete with over-sized mitt to the throat, to hold that head in place. To incapacitate, perhaps? Who knows the thinking right now, as it seems magic is the key, let it be magic that is the decider.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Holding that dome is fairly easy for the moment, at least. It's fairly easy unless something happens like that ice sword smacks in to it with the force the female demon had put into it. The fireball moves quickly towad Henry, enough of it that it's not as fast as it was before, but it's so very large now that it might be difficult to dodge.

But then, there's water appearing in front of it. A cupped sheet. Before, the female demon's hair had gone right through it. But this isn't hair. It's liquid fire. The water catches it, and it bulges back from it, back toward the Blue Beast. The curved edges curl inward right enough, wrapping around the fireball. And there it stops. And for a moment, nothing happens. The fire seems to be flickering and dying.

And then it seems to vanish. But Vitali? He seems to be getting a little warm. No, hot. How'd it get so hot? Xiang Zhao isn't sweating at all, so what's going on? And then it starts to burn. From the inside, where the heart of Vitali's magic is nestled. He feels on fire, on the inside.

Now, the fire demon does seem to have been distracted away from the very flammable blue furred guy. Oh yes. His eyes and attention are very much fixed on Vitali. His eyes burn, now with a malevolence that wasn't there before. And he makes a hand motion very reminscent of the sort that Zhao makes. He lifts is hand, and then he shoves it toward Vitali. He makes a fist, and squeezes. A very cruel smile fills the demon's features. Whatever he's doing, he's enjoying it.

And Vitali's clothing starts to smoulder. Anywhere his clothing touches his skin, it's smouldering, blackening, smoke coming from the clothing. "Ah'Tali," says Zhao, his voice sharp and sudden. "Ball of water around you! Right now!" Zhao moves suddenly into motion, that fan coming to hand again and flipping open with a sharp, crisp sound as it snaps open. He runs toward the demon, heedless of any fire. With his left hand, he cups the magic, and starts the form of a spell.

As Henry moves, the demon doesn't seem to notice. Zhao notices, but he's coming in at the same time from the opposite side and the edge of his fan is bladed. The swipe of the fan is already going for the demon's throat at the same time Henry's arm goes around it. Somehow, Zhao turns the move, turns himself, and slides past Beast with the demon held in his grasp.

But the demon is dead, it has no need to breath. Henry succeeds in immobilizing the head. And he succeeds in pinning the arms and one hand, but the other slips the grip. The demon brings the hand up, his arm pinned at the elbow, and blows fire onto his hand and arm. Suddenly, he's burning, the fire racing up his arm toward the blue, fur clad arm holding him.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
The efforts are not without consequences, without a price. The fight has been a more lingering sort of thing than what Vitali is accustomed to, and he's been tapped into his magic for the majority of it. Spending energy. With the exception of maintaining or manipulating the ice dome that's protecting the children, there's nothing more that he can do with ice. There's a brief moment that he takes for a bit of mental reckoning, but his focus is held at least for the moment upon the sheet of water that he'd summoned in order to catch the fireball. And for better or for worse, his ettempt to catch the fireball turned out to be successful.

And for a moment? For a moment, the idea seems to be working -- the water wraps around the fireball, and the fire seems to be flickering and dying. Except it didn't, but Vitali doesn't know it in that moment. What he knows? What he knows is that he's significantly warmer right now than what he had been in only moments ago. That's not a normal thing. Not even when he uses his magic to douse fire. The heat inside of himself is an uncomfortable thing, dizzying almost, and he coughs a little bit before lowering a bit sharply, suddenly, to his knees there on the ground. The heat within feels as though it's burning, consuming, searing him.

Vitali's concentration which had been holding so carefully and tightly to the dome of ice? It falters. The temperature of the ice increases, it fissures, it starts to crumble and break, and it readily starts to revert back to water. His breathing is shorter and quicker, more painful as the heat within him seeps out from where the well of his magic exists within him. He leans, the palm of his left hand settling on the ground, his fingers spread, and his right hand moves to press against that space between the lower point of his breastbone and his belly. His skin is sweated, his hair damp with it, the water within his body feeling as though it's being forced and pushed out from the heat within.

Vitali's dark gaze lifts from the ground where it had lowered, back to the fire demon. There's a sound from him then, when the demaon makes that fist and squeezes, a sound that's definitely pained. He coughs a bit more again, his breath hot and dry. From above in the sky, Soraya shrieks, a piercing and sharp sound. Then there's Zhao, speaking his name in such a tone as that commands attention, and Vitali's gaze turns to him. He hears the command, the instruction. And he fights for it, to regain his focus, a thing which takes a precious moment to accomplish, and he struggles to hold it despite the smoldering and burning of his clothes around him. The faintest whisper of a murmur slips past his lips not once, but twice -- the first was accompanied by a slight movement of one of the fingers of his right hand and has no visible effect. The second is accompanied by a slight steepling of the fingers of his left hand there upon the ground, and a swirling cylinder of water rises up from the ground to completely and entirely engulf him. There is no air, there is only water, and it continues to swirl even after it has swallowed him up into it. What happens beyond that cylinder which holds him, Vitali doesn't know. Not in the moments as it unfolds. He breathes the water that's around him, surrounding him, and tries to keep enough of his focus intact to maintain it.

Beast has posed:
One might suppose that something that is dead has nothing to lose. Except that it can still lose its non-existent life to a degree. Who knows, maybe it will reconstitute itself somehow and return, considering that fire against fire would be troublesome. Do they freeze these bastards instead and entomb them in glaciers? It could be a thing.

But as far as Hank knows, the dead do not do well when you separate them from their corporeal existence. With the arm coming free to point gesture, the flames writhe up to his arm and all along the left hand, from knuckle to elbow catches fire. Because hair burns. And that napalm like effect? Well, perhaps a little of his brain that isn't going OWIE OWIE OWIE for the short time it takes for it to go numb and him not feel anything, as first goes to second goes to third degree burn... he exerts the strength inherent in his mutation and framework to rip the head off the creature he holds by its jaw. FWIP. The steel of the tonfa that lies along his left arm, does not do much better, going red hot. But he does not care, for he does not feel it any more. He rips left with the other arm, pulling the thing apart at the midriff and flinging it the other way from the head, then literally whales on the body parts with the red hot steel bar and the strength of his muscular frame, to turn corporealized flesh into a broken, rancid pile of mush. Again and again and again and again and again, he hits and hits and hits until the earth beneath is also churned up and the pristine lawn a crater.

And only then, does he stop, say a very soft "Ow," and stare around.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
No effort is ever a thing without consequences. Just, sometimes those consequences are good ones, rather than bad. Successful isn't always a good thing. In this case... it might be a very bad thing. Zhao can see the magic, can see what the demon is doing to Vitali. Perhaps that's why he'd yelled the order he had when he had. Maybe that had been a bid to cut the demon's magic away from Vitali. The only thing now is to see if it had worked.

As Vitali gets that sphere of water swirling up and around him, the immediate pain of what the demon had been doing fades, but the damage that had already been done remains, burning dully within. But the link of the demon's magic to Vitali's has been cut off thanks to the water and its swirling motion.

As the head is seperated from the body, that is the moment the fires simply go out. There isn't even a whimper from the demon as it's head goes *crack!* and seperaes from its body. The body keeps moving, that one free hand trying to free the rest of it. But without eyes to direct it, the attempts are aimless at best.

It takes Zhao several long moments to get himself back to his feet and make his way to Henry. He only arrives about the time the blue Beast finishes his pulverizing. He doesn't say anything, but instead calls up his magic again, with his left arm dripping blood he scoops the magic, and forms it, and casts /his/ fire onto the remains of the demon. It burns quite merrily for a few moments before going to ash and blowing away on the wind.

Then Zhao turns and walks just as gracefully as normal to the sphere of water Vitali has put up. And he reaches into it with his left hand, blood mingling into the swirling stream of it, searching to grasp Vitali on one of the arms he can vaguely see within. "Henry. If Vitali has not been harmed too badly, he can heal your arm," he says softly.

The ice dome doesn't crumble for long before it simply melts and splashes those near it into being fairly wet. Good thing it's a warm day! And then the neighbors are coming out and surrounding Henry and Zhao and the swirling water, chattering away in Mandarin. One older lady with silver hair is tending to Beast, trying to put some sort of ointment onto his arm and bandage it. Others are trying to get Zhao's attention, but his attention is pretty fixed on getting Vitali out of the water surrounding him and he pays them no mind just yet.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
For the duration of the time that Vitali is within the cylinder of water that he'd pulled together, he's unaware of everything happening beyond. He's hurt in ways that he's never been hurt before. Damage has already been done. Breathing the water at least seems to help, a little bit.

Zhao's searching hand is successful in grabbing Vitali's left arm. Within the swirling water, Vitali opens his dark eyes and after a moment, the water starts to trickle and flow away. It was all he could do to hold the cylinder in pace. The water flows away and sinks into the ground from whence it had been drawn. The Siberian leans forward, a bit unsteadily so, and he starts to cough, bringing up the water that he had been breathing. Some of the water comes up tinged and streaked with red, though Vitali brings no notice to it and calls no attention to it. He breathes, a bit harshly for a moment, and then he lifts his dark gaze to Zhao. There's a little smile that manages to find the corners of his lips. "Zhaoshenka," he whispers quite softly. There's a bleary sort of look that's cast hastily across the area, and then his gaze returns to Zhao. "Children safe?" he asks, his voice no more than a whisper in volume.

There are seared spots of his clothes -- the forearms of his shirt, his lower back, his upper shoulders, an area on his stomach. Jeans, at least, don't burn as easily as what a turtleneck shirt does. "Am hao," Vitali murmurs. He's sort of okay.

Beast has posed:
So much for the lunch. There's considerably too much to deal with and it will remain unfortunately cold and untouched. "Given he was smoking, Zhao... I think he may require healing himself." But ZHao's focused on the siberian and the elderly lady is being helpful and insistent; so salve and bandaging applied, Beast calls over "...I'm taking myself to the ER" after the Sheh-sheh's are given out. And lets hope that a new york taxi stops for a big blue brutha -- he'll have to find out later how the rest of this fared.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Breathing the water is probably the best thing that could have been done in this situation. That had allowed Vitali to cool himself from the inside out, just as the demon's magic had burnt him from the inside out. Xiang Zhao watches as that water drains away, as tinged with pink from his blood as the water that Vitali winds up coughing up is tinged with the Siberian's blood. His hand remais upon the Siberian's arm, and as the man is unsteady, Zhao supports him. "Shi," he says, and though it's the Mandarin word for 'yes', it might sound as though he's trying to shush Vitali in the moment. Then he speaks again. "Yes. Their parents are caring for them." He nods at the man as he says he's okay. "Hao."

He glances to Henry and nods. "Please let us know how you are tomorrow? Take care." At least the Beast heals quickly. And if Zhao can finagle it, there will likely be more lunch at some point, delivered!