13976/A Snack in the Park

A Snack in the Park
Date of Scene:	22 November 2021
Location:	Columbus Park - Chinatown
Synopsis:	Vitali, with food in hand, crosses paths with Xiang Zhao, who is playing his flute. The music is enjoyed, Rogue comes across the pair of them and a bit of conversation is had.
Cast of Characters:	Vitali Svyatoslav, Xiang Zhao, Rogue

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Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
Ever an interesting place to visit, Chinatown boasts a great many delights. It is the middle of the afternoon. The sky is a lovely shade of blue, and there are puffy white clouds drifting merrily along. The temperature is pleasant but cool. There is a hint of a breeze that teases through the trees now and again, enough to rustle and rattle the remaining autumn leaves that hang upon the branches.

After walking along the street beyond the park and stopping at a couple of vendors to purchase steamed buns and candied fruit, the Siberian has made his way into the park. It is a familiar place for him, and has become a place that he spends a fair amount of time in over the past couple of months. Chinatown has been the place that he has been exclusively spending time, interestingly enough. With his purchases in hand, he starts to make his way across the park. It would seem that he's headed towards the water's shore. There is little in the way of sound that comes from the traditional Chinese silk robes that he wears, and his long black hair hangs mostly free down over his back. The sides of his hair have been braided in multiple horizontal thin braids, the braids then gathered at the back of his head where they are twisted together and secured with a sandalwood hairstick carved with lotus blooms. As he has been for the past couple of months, he is also clean shaven.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Somewhere high overhead, the scream of an eagle on the hunt can be heard. Beneath the trees, another in traditional Chinese silk robes can be seen. This one is in white with flowing lines of silver and blue. The top of Xiang Zhao's long black hair is pulled up and twisted into a bun, and secured with a jade hairstick done into the shape of a branch. The jade is white. Xiang Zhao sits beneath the trees, some distance from the chosen path Vitali has taken to the water's edge.

He is cross-legged with a flute that is also white jade, carved with patterns similiar to the ones on his robes, in similar colors. The flute is held up, with his lips hovering over one of the holes on the side toward the top of it. His fingers move with precision over the remaining holes on the sides as he creates music with stone and wind.

The melody is one that Vitali would normally recognize immediately. One that had been played for him before. It's a jaunty tune, bouncy and full of life. But also playful and a little taunting. His dark eyes follow Vitali as he walks toward the water.

Rogue has posed:
Having been encouraged to get out a little more, Rogue is taking a leisurely flight that has led her to Chinatown. Of course she's never the type to be overly social, so landing in a park where she can watch people - but not be seen as creepy - and not really have to engage with strangers is the best of both worlds. Though as she lands, she notices a familiar face heading towards the water and despite her anti-social nature, she actually makes her way towards Vitali. It's been a bit since she's seen him and the last time he was still not in very good shape. So now is an opportunity to check up on him and see just how he's doing. It'll be a minute or two before she catches up to him, however. As she landed a bit away from people. At least she can take advantage of the cooler temps and wear an actual outfit of a long sleeved shirt with black gloves and leggings.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
The scream of the eagle is not only attention catching but it is familiar as well. The Siberian's steps pause, then stop, and his dark gaze lifts to the sky to pick out the silhouette of the eagle who hunts. A slight wrinkle touches his brow, and there's a silvery blue flicker that briefly rises to his eyes. Vitali knows this sound, and he is intimately familiar with it. The small paper bag with the steamed buns in it, held in his left hand, is lowered to his side. He tilts his head a little bit to one side, his gaze following the eagle in flight.

The flute music being played teases with familiarity as well, and after a moment of watching the eagle, his attention turns to Xiang Zhao. He who plays the instrument. There is a small step that's taken towards Xiang Zhao, and then another, and then Vitali sinks to the ground and to his knees there. His breathing shifts a touch quicker, and that silvery blue flicker returns to his eyes in the moment before he closes them. He faintly shakes his head a little bit, as though perhaps to chase away cobwebs from his thoughts. "Zhao," he says softly, a whisper of his Russian accent to touch the name. Then he opens his eyes and then lifts his gaze towards the Chinaman sitting so near and yet so far at the same time. Others present in the park, as of yet, seem to not earn his attention.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
The eagle should be familiar. It's Soraya. Gliding far, far above the range of any powers Vitali might be able to use against her. She and Zhao, over the past few weeks, had worked out a system of communication using, of all things, music. For that music, it's simply communication. For the music being played right /now/, though, there's power behind it. Will and intent. Beckoning. Calling. Summoning and seeking.

And then dancing in circles around, and refusing to be caught. Playing and taunting. The eagle above sounds out her cry again, but remains aloft. Zhao hadn't given her a proper signal just yet.

Xiang Zhao's eyes shift from Vitali to Rogue as he feels her presence enter the park. Those dark eyes don't linger for more than a few seconds before they shift back to the figure of Vitali. Xiang Zhao doesn't respond verbally to the Siberian. He continues playing the music. His skin shines, glistens, ever so slightly where the dappled light filtering through the trees touches it.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue gets about as close as she is comfortable with getting before she feels she might be intruding on something. A glance to Zhao as she feels his eyes on her and she offers a bow of her head before looking back and forth between the two. The flute music is pretty and the cry of the eagle above gains her attention to the skies for a moment to watch the bird soar before she looks back towards the two men once more. "Zhao. Vitali. Nice to see you two out and about." She offers. "How have things been?"

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
That it's Soraya, the eagle he's been bound to for literally years, is not a fact that Vitali can overlook. He can sense her, the bond with her yet intact despite what the past couple of months has brought. The interloper, the additional spirit that's within his body and that's been majoritively in control of his body, doesn't recognize it. There is no magic that he reaches for or claims, not in these moments. There is a fight that happens within the Siberian, with little outward sign of it.

His dark gaze lifts to the eagle when she calls out once more, and he remains there upon the ground, there on his knees. He watches her as she flies freely, and he draws in a deep breath before slowing letting it out, for a moment simply admiring and perhaps being a little bit jealous of her freedom. For long days and long nights, his spirit has been caged. The prison is, at least, his own body, but it has still been a cage.

Vitali brings his gaze back to Zhao, watching him and listening to the music. Somewhere along the way, his fingers had let go of the paper bag with the steamed buns in it, and it sits in the grass near to him. His hands rest lightly on his thighs, near to his knees. Some of the tension pent up between his shoulderblades eases, for what feels the first time in weeks. "Zhao, I am here, for a little while," Vitali says quietly, his Russian accent falling across the words, and there's a warm but small smile that finds his lips. It's not quite the same, and yet that's perhaps not entirely unexpected given certain things. He's never sure quite how long he has in those moments he has control. He takes a chance, to move just a little bit closer to Zhao, scooting a bit and staying on his knees as he does so.

It's a moment delayed, but he does look towards Rogue at her appearance there. "Things have been... strange. Da, strange," he says quietly. This seems to be the answer that he settles on, though many other words could assuredly be used to describe recent things. "And for you?" he asks in turn, a touch of curiosity in the words. Even with the question asked, his dark gaze turns back to Zhao, to watch him.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao's eyes flick to Rogue again, and the nod he returns is very small. He doesn't want to interrupt the music, in this moment. It's as though he knows, if the music stops, something bad is going to happen. Of course, that's not to say that something bad won't happen even if he does continue to play the music... Either way, the glisten on his skin grows to beads of sweat that gather and drip down his face. It's really not that warm, and he's just playing music, right? It really shouldn't be that hard.

Xiang Zhao's music changes, transitioning seamlessly from the jaunty tune to one filled with a lot more melancholy. It's a longing, tune. Yearning. Wishing for.. something. He knows the music can only hold Heng Zhihao at bay for so long. His eyes rest on Vitali, and silently, he urges the Siberian to tell Rogue what is going on, since he himself cannot. Not at present, anyway.

Rogue has posed:
"Strange? Define strange." Rogue requests as her gaze shifts to Vitali for a moment. "Ah. Slow? I suppose? I'm being urged to get out and socialize a bit more. Which makes me happy to run into people I am familiar with because I..." She pauses, then shrugs. "I don't do well with strangers..." She offers.

As the music Zhao is playing becomes a bit more melancholy, her brow raises once more. She looks between the two men, then up in the skies to search for the eagle once more. Finally she drops her head back down and then tilts it to one side and then the other. "Pretty music...but...uhm...are you alright. You're getting very sweaty...like you're working too hard to...keep playing..." See! Context clues. She can get them! Sort of.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
If the music stops, then something bad just might happen. The music is helping to keep Heng Zhihao at bay, and that's a very good thing. Heng Zhihao is a dangerous spirit. Vitali watches Zhao closes, noticing those beads of sweat that come to his skin. It concerns him, and it worries him, and there's a wrinkle that comes to his brow from it.

As the music shifts and changes, he still watches Zhao. He reaches out a hand to very faintly touch his fingers near to Zhao's knee, a smile returning to his features. "Strange is... strange," he says softly, tilting his head a touch to one side. "Weeks ago, I became... possessed. A Chinese spirit. She is strong," he comments, giving a small nod. "I am her captive, within. I break free, sometimes. She hunts for the statue, Zhao. And she hunts for victims. People to kill," he adds, his brow wrinkling a touch further.

"Henry McCoy, Shannon, Kit... they know. Willow. Askante. All of them know. The spirit, she is called Heng Zhihao. I am not able to push her out. Not by myself. I do not know what to do but fight where I can," Vitali says quietly, frowning a little bit. He looks to Rogue, and he shifts his position slightly. "He plays to give me time. To give me these moments."

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Strange. How do you define strange when the very life you live is strange? Xiang Zhao's eyes travel back and forth between Rogue and Vitali now. More on Vitali, but when Rogue is speaking, they're on her more frequently. He shakes his head to the question posed of him, but doesn't answer. Doing this using his flute... may have been a bad idea. The sweat isn't getting any better, either. And Zhao's breathing is getting harder, visibly so. His skin paler.

Xiang Zhao nods to what Vitali is saying. His lips curl up ever so slightly as hunting for victims is mentioned. Zhao keeps ruining those plans for hunting. Simply by getting to intended targets first, and whisking them away. He knows about the statue. Oh how he knows. But he hasn't gone back for it. At the moment, it's safer where it is.

Dark eyes fix on Vitali, something within their depths. Urging, but not quite. He's almost at the end of his endurance. He can't keep his intent and power behind the music for very much longer.

Rogue has posed:
There's that sort of lightbulb moment that goes off in Rogue's head. "Oh! Hank told me about this. Sort of. He didn't use your name, but you're the friend who's not able to control their own body. Sometimes." She says this and then thinks on it further. "So it's like a whole other consciousness...inside your mind..." Gears start turning, but it might take her a bit and she wants to run some things by Hank as well. "Well now that I know this..I..I might be able to help. Not promising anything though, and I wanna talk to Hank first before I say anything else about it. That way if it's not doable I don't have anyone's hopes up or something.." She then sighs and glances to Zhao. "Your friend seems like he's about to collapse... are you staying somewhere? I'd like to be able to find you after I sort some thoughts out."

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
The Siberian's life isn't exactly a very normal one, though for the past couple of months it's been stranger than normal. He's a shaman, and so he has a bit of an unusual life. His dark gaze turns to Xiang Zhao, and he tilts his head a touch to one side, worry reflecting in them. He frowns a little bit, and then he scoots a touch closer to Zhao before lifting a hand to very gently settle his fingers upon one of Zhao's hands there on the flute. "Zhao. Thank you," Vitali says softly, a warm and sincere tone to his voice. "You have played enough," he adds in a gentle tone. There's a smile that comes to his features, and he gives a small nod to the Chinaman. "It is okay, Zhao." His fingers give Zhao's a gentle squeeze, and if he's able to, he'll softly push the flute down.

He lifts his other hand, to attempt to touch Zhao's cheek, with fondness in the touch. A smile returns to his features, and his dark gaze seeks that of the Chinaman. "Keep stopping her. I will do what I can to fight her. You give me the strength to fight, Zhao," he says quietly, giving a small nod to him. Softly, he withdraws his hand from Zhao's before he scoots back a little bit to where the bag with the steamed buns had been dropped. To return to where he had started, in the hopes that perhaps Heng Zhihao might not prod too much into what happened in these few moments.

He looks to Rogue, and he gives a small nod to her words. "Most times, I do not have control. This time is the longest, since it started," he says softly. "Da, similar. Zhao can find me. He always does," Vitali adds, giving a small nod. His gaze turns to Zhao, and his brow furrows a little bit. He takes in a deep breath, then slowly lets it out as he settles back on his heels. Then he tilts his head a touch to one side. "She comes," he says quietly, his voice near a whisper.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao really does seem like he's about to collapse. He looks lit. He, of course, doesn't answer Rogue's question, though he has the answer to it. He can't, right now. One cannot talk and play the flute at the same time. It's simply not possible. His dark eyes settle on Vitali as the Siberian scoots closer to him. They dip down when his hand is touched. And back up again at the thank you and his name. He doesn't stop playing just then. Not until the soft push comes. He hasn't the strength to resist in this moment, though Vitali will feel the trembles in his muscles as he tries to do so. And then the song fades, the power fading with it, as the flute lowers from his lips.

"Ah'Tali," he whispers, voice soft, agonized. He leans into the touch to his cheek, and the dampness there can be felt easily. Xiang Zhao closes his eyes and nods to the words. "I will," he promises. "I will do my best to save you, ah'Tali." Even if 'saving him' might mean taking his life in the end. It's not something he wants to think about. His eyes open again as the hands are withdrawn, as the Siberian distances himself again.

Overhead, Soraya calls, emotions playing down the bond she shares with Vitali. Xiang Zhao watches as Vitali retreats. His hands drop to his lap and he bows his head, closing his eyes. Drawing in a ragged breath, Zhao tucks the flute away, under his outer robe and beneath the sash that holds the inner robe closed. He climbs to his feet, and seems to be steady enough, despite the paleness of his skin and the glistening sweat that has yet to evaporate.

"I can find him. The rare times I lose him, Soraya can find him." He is, once more, back to the calm, collected Chinaman that everyone sees most of the time. Displaying very little in the way of emotion. His dark eyes go to Rogue. "Any help you can provide is appreciated. I know where the foo dog is that once bound her. The spells upon it are damaged. If I can find some way to force the huli back into it.. perhaps she can be bound again. But I have not the knowledge." Which brings his to mind to thinking, trying to bring from memory those who might have that knowledge.

Rogue has posed:
Rogue watches the two for a moment, as Zhao struggles still to keep up his flute playing and Vitali comments that the other within him is coming. There's a frown that forms on her lips and she steps forward. "I don't know if it will help... I really want to talk to Hank about it... but my mutant power....I think it might help you." She offers this last bit and tries to do so before Vitali is no longer Vitali. She's also unsure if she should stay or go, and perhaps it is nothing but morbid curiosity that causes her to stay. Maybe if she witnesses what happens, she can make a more accurate thought to her idea.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
That tremble to Xiang Zhao's muscles was assuredly something that Vitali had noticed during the touch. Yet there was nothing that he could do about it, for his healing doesn't work in such ways, and so there was nothing that he did. His dark gaze holds on Xiang Zhao, without waivering. "Zhaoshenka, Ya lyublyu vas," he says, his voice quiet and a little bit husky with the words. "Da... I know you will, Zhaoshenka. I trust you, always," he adds, giving a small nod. There's a liquidy shimmer that reflects in his dark eyes, and he settles his hands to his knees, letting them rest there.

Vitali can feel those emotions through the bond with Soraya, and at least in this moment -- in this moment of being himself -- he can communicate with her as well. And he does, in all of the wordless ways that he can. It's a reassuring moment for him, to be able to communicate with her. "I know you will do what needs to be done," he says softly, giving a small nod to Zhao. He looks up, briefly, to the silhouette of Soraya there in the sky, and then he brings his gaze back to Zhao. There is something about that look, and he wants to say something more, yet... he can't bring himself to say it. To ask Zhao to kill Soraya if he needs to die himself. Especially since Heng Zhihao is so near.

Carefully, Vitali picks up the paper bag with the steamed buns in it, and then he rises to his feet, the movement graceful. "I am sorry... I cannot keep her away. I will try to fight her off again when we meet," he says softly, giving a small nod to Zhao. There's a wrinkle that comes to his brow, and he gives a little shake of his head. There's nothing he can do to stop her. There's a muted silvery blue flicker that shows in his dark eyes, and it fades away too readily.

There's a shift in his physical bearing, and he tilts his head a touch to one side as he looks from Xiang Zhao to Rogue and back again. "This one is unsure of this moment," he says, frowning slightly and taking a small step back from the pair of them.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao tries, but it's doomed to be too much eventually. And probably sooner rather than later, if Vitali hadn't made him stop. His dark eyes turn to Rogue as she speaks, and he nods to her. If it helps, Zhao may well be willing to try just about anything. But he doesn't speak. Instead, he looks to Vitali, to see what the Siberian thinks. Vitali's words to him in Russian bring a faint upturn to his lips. "Wo ai ni," he whispers back. No emotions shows on his face. No tears gather. Only the words whispered reveal anything.

Whatever it is that Vitali wishes to say, Xiang Zhao can't read the man's mind, so he has no idea what he's really thinking. He would find it hard to kill Soraya anyway, even if he were asked. As Vitali distances himself, Xiang Zhao tucks his left hand at the small of his back and slides one of his fans from beneath his outer robe.

The fan is flicked open with a soft snick of silk over steel. As though the day is warm, too warm for his liking, he starts waving the fan, wafting the breeze toward his face. His eyes turn toward Rogue. "Any help you can offer would be appreciated," he says, his tone once again it's normal level of softness and calm
And then the moment comes. He knows the moment it does. Vitali's aura changes. His eyes go chill, his expression remote, overlying the calm serenity that is Xiang Zhao. "You are losing control." The words are a calculated stab, straight to Heng Zhihao's arrogance.

Rogue has posed:
The change is like night and day, and Rogue is beside herself. She doesn't speak to the other, and her gaze shifts to Zhao. A nod of her head to his words to her and then she looks to the skies for the eagle before back down again. "I'll go see what can possibly be helped with." This and then she takes one step back, another, "I will find you." This before she leaps up into the air to take flight and head back home.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
It's a thing to speculate over, as to what might help with the situation Vitali finds himself to be in. It's a situation that he never expected to be in, and it is a bit of an unusual situation. Who would have expected for a spirit to invade the body of a shaman? Those three little words that Xiang Zhao speaks in Chinese give him strength, and they are cherished, out of Heng Zhihao's sight and reach, within that protected place that he's created for himself within. He can't stop her from taking over again, no matter how much he wants to.

There's a glance cast towards the fan in the moments after it was flicked open, watching the smooth passes that it makes through the air. He looks towards Rogue for a momet, and then back to Xiang Zhao, studying the Chinaman for a lingering moment. "This one is not. He is where he belongs, and where he shall be kept. His prison grows smaller. How long do you think he will be able to keep fighting before he gives up?" he asks, one of his eyebrows slightly raising a touch. Heng Zhihao doesn't know Vitali anywhere near as well as what Xiang Zhao does, though. But then, she knows little of Xiang Zhao for Vitali has been guarding that well.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao watches as Rogue flies away. Then his eyes shift back to Vitali. His lips curve up into a little smile. A smile which does not touch his cold, cold eyes. "Have you not figured it out yet? He will fight you forever." Just as Zhao will. Forever.

With those words, Xiang Zhao turns. He walks away, fan moving gently in his right hand. He might be taking a stroll along a sunlit path. His weakness shows not at all.

He rounds a tree, and is simply gone. Hidden amongst the branches above.

Vitali Svyatoslav has posed:
There is a glance cast, belatedly, in the direction that Rogue has flown off in. Yet his attention turns readily back to Xiang Zhao. He tilts his head a touch to one side, and he lightly moves his right hand to adjust the sleeve around his arm. His hand lifts, simply settling before him, his hand vanished into the sleeve.

"His resilience is an unusual thing," he says softly, considerinng it for a lingering moment. Then he inclines his head slightly towards Zhao. "Then we will see who is able to come out to be the victor when all is said and done. This one does not intend to leave this body willingly," he says, a ghost of a smile touching at the corners of his lips. Heng Zhihao intends to fight as well, and so far, she's managed to keep Vitali mostly at bay. Mostly. He watches Zhao as he turns to walk away, vanishing behind that tree he rounds, perhaps inwardly prodding at Vitali and likely earning nothing for her troubles.

Xiang Zhao has posed:
Xiang Zhao's voice comes, soft. The direction indistonct. "Then you will be forced out of it." And then, silence continues.