Owner	Pose
Wendell Vaughn	It's not like Wendell is out patrollin' for bad guys. He's trying to live his life. But his life has become more complicated since he was named 'Protector of the Universe'... obviously the single most pretentious title anyone has ever had, anywhere. That, and his non-spandex job of being a SHIELD agent... he still doesn't get combat field assignments. Mostly because SHIELD is more scared of his Quantum Bands, than they are trusting of them.     But he rented a loft in Manhattan, and is now out in the park. He hasn't been here in over four years... four years spent in a medically induced coma while flying to Uranus. Long story... but he stands in line to get a hot dog this evening.
Xiang Zhao	Xiang Zhao has been in New York City for some months now.. and still wears what he's most comfortable wearing. Robes. Straight out of one of those Chinese action flicks from ancient times. With his long hair partially held up with a hair stick, he looks the part too. Today, the robes are mostly shades of blue. Different shades that somehow mesh well together rather than clashing. A folding fan is held in his right hand, and he waves it slowly as he walks through the park. His left hand is held at the small of his back, the hand itself quite hidden in within the flowing sleeve. He is, at present, in an area of the park somewhat near where the vendors are. He isn't in a line just yet, but he does seem to be meandering in that general direction. Only, not to that hot dog stand, but to one a few carts down serving somewhat traditional Chinese cuisine. Or, well, as traditional as such things get when not in China.
Berri	New York was home for Berri...at least, as much as anywhere could be. She'd travelled plenty, from Gotham to Metropolis and even the sanctuary of the League of Assassins...but her activities paid well enough that the former poor struggling kid could now afford herself a luxury suite where room service and a hottub were right at her fingertips. Whoever said crime didn't pay clearly hadn't been very good at it. Even so, the 'Icecream' colores girl makes her way down the street, her parasol lazily slung over her shoulder whole she moves towards the carts. She might have made a point to move up in the world, but who didn't like a hotdog?
Wendell Vaughn	"Thanks." says Wendell to the vendor as he pays for his hot dog and Coca Cola. He turns to regard the rest of the area... food carts are a lot like food trucks with even less resources, but excellent attitude and service. At least in Central Park they are.     He lifts his dog to take a bite, and executes a quick scan of the local area using his concealed Quantum Bands. Basically, energy will ping on them. Energy of the EM variety... pretty much anything physics can explain. Magic is RIGHT out there.
Xiang Zhao	Even Xiang Zhao likes hotdogs. And he'd only been introduced to them some six or so months prior. Of course, his feet still angle him toward the Chinese food, rather than the hot dogs. He steps into place at the back of the line, his expression calm. Serene is more apt. He is content to be exactly where he happens to be. The fan continues moving lazily along. Curiously, as that quick scan goes over Xiang Zhao's location, nothing can be detected from him. Not a single thing at all. The man has zero electronics on his person. For a city as modern as this is, that's unusual. Did he just step out of ancient China or something? As he reaches the front of the line, Zhao speaks in Mandarin to the owner of the food cart. His voice is soft, like it's a habit to speak softly rather than trying to keep from being overheard. His tone is like his expression. Calm, serene. His words are understood, the owner bobs a nod to him, and dishes out a meal. And it's paid for from a belt pouch, with typical American currency. Food in his left hand, Zhao turns toward a bench not terribly far away that's unoccupied.
Berri	Berri was late to the line, forced to take a moment and wait...or she would be, the the petite girl didn't simply step -past- the line, right up to the cart and hold out her hand. Wordlessly, also as if on autopilot, the vendor assembled her hotdog and passed her a soda, earning a smile from the girl with the two-tone hair despite the bewilderment of the customer at the head of the line. Maybe the hotdog vender knew the weird silent girl? Xiang Zhao's 'chill vibes' earns a sidelong glance from Berri, a raise of her brow offered at the robe before she makes to take her first bite of her 'purchase' that she clearly didn't pay for.
Wendell Vaughn	And then there is Wendell, the blonde suit wearing average joe who wouldn't really draw a second glance in New York. He takes another bite of his hot dog and lifts a brow. Oh hey, look... girl must be a regular, and a favorite of the cart owner. That's so cool.     He just grins at the antics and then as his eyes draw back over the crowd, he notices the guy who should be an extra in a movie about Shaolin temples. Okay, so that's not exactly accurate. But it is a thought that makes Wendell's lips curve into an amused grin.     Now, something that might stand out to the telepath is that for whatever reason... Wendell's mind is inaccessible. Even on a passive layer. It's more than that... there is some sort of frequency working in his aura that disrupts telepathic abilities and their ability to reach his brain. So for someone who is used to seeing everyone's thoughts... he might stand out like the one person in a quiet room who happens to be blowing an air horn. Subtle right?!
Xiang Zhao	Other than thoughts of how good the food smells, Xiang Zhao's mind is calm and unruffled, like the surface of a still pond. For a telepath used to hearing uncontrolled thoughts, it might be somewhat peaceful. Shaolin temples might be a bit more accurate that it's thought. But only time will tell for certain. And asking, perhaps? As he reaches the bench, Zhao lays the plate of food atop the table part of it. The fan is flicked closed with one smooth movement and laid on the table beside the food. He sits down with a practiced flick of the back of his robes to get them out of the way. A brief glimpse of something long and slightly curved can be seen as he sits. A sheathed sword, perhaps? While he seems entirely at ease, there's something about him that says he's paying attention to those around him. Perhaps not with his eyes, but with his other senses. He reaches for the fork on the plate, and eats a bite. His eyes close in apparent bliss. Good food is worth savoring! Of course, his thoughts follow that direction.
Berri	Berri had come across closed off minds before, other telepaths or disciplines that people used to shroud their thoughts...this wasn't the same, it was interference...and not in the same way as that helmet one of her previous employers had used, or the big merc. Frowning a little at the 'noise', Berri's eyes moved over Wendel for a moment while she takes another bite of her meal. Being armed wasn't so strange to the young woman, but a sword? Well, outside the league it was rather less common, enough to have her tilting her head curiously at the chill Xiang Zhao.
Wendell Vaughn	Okay, so Wendell is staring at Xiang also. But only because the guy stands out in a crowd. Everyone seems to be standing around, staring at one another, nobody interacting.     Fir his part, the normal looking of the three people lingering here takes another bite of his hot dog, and then he cocks his head as if listening to something. I mean sure, it's kinda cool that he can listen to messages via his neural link the Quantum Bands. It's totally cheating. But in order to break this awkward stalemate, he steps towards Xiang's bench and speaks up, "May I ask what that dish you got is? It looks tasty."
Xiang Zhao	Meanwhile, Xiang Zhao isn't looking at anything but his food. He's just finishing a bite when the man in the suit steps up to him. He glances up and inclines his head to the man. "Tangcu liji with chaofan," he replies. "Sweet and sour pork with fried rice. It is very tasty." He speaks English fairly fluently, but there's still a distinctly Chinese accent to the words. With his left hand, Zhao gestures to the other side of the bench, the motion calm and graceful. "You are welcome to sit, if you would like." His voice is just as soft as it had been with the vendor before. Definitely a habitual thing. His thoughts don't change much. His mind is still unperturbed. But, there's curiousity there. Perhaps he likes meeting new people?
Berri	Herself not invited as Wendell was but curious enough, Berri'e gaze follows the pair now as she finishes her hotdog and flicks open the can of soda she'd been given. It wasn't healthy, but damn if it didn't taste nice to now and then indulge in a little junk food!
Wendell Vaughn	Brows raising inquisitively, Wendell offers a grin. "That does sound good. Makes me regret the hot dog." he remarks as he crumples the wrapper his meal of choice came in.     But his eyes flicker up and over towards Berri for just a moment before he looks back towards Xiang, "Don't look now, but I think you've an admirer."
Xiang Zhao	Xiang Zhao's lips curve up ever so slightly. "Hot dogs are .. alright. But not too often. I am still not entirely certain I care for them." His dark eyes follow the other man's glance toward the girl with the parosal and parti-colored hair. "Are you quite certain you do not belong to the admirer?" Amusement flickers in his mind, though it doesn't show much on his face. Just that faint upturning of the corners of his mouth. Never the less, Zhao waves his left hand gracefully at the table, and benches, to his right. "You are welcome as well," he says, eyes on the woman. Curiously, those dark eyes of his never fall below her chin. Or, when they do lower, it's to one side or the other of her.
Berri	One didn't have to be a telepath to catch that exchange, or the amusement in her direction. Still, all it prompted from Berri was a raise of her brow and then a shrug as she tucked her parasol under her arm and moved closer to the pair. A few gestures of her hand might be recognizable as sign language, but that might not be the most common thing for people to know.
Wendell Vaughn	And now Wendell gets to show off, just a wee little bit. He learned Sign when he was in the Army. It was an elective thing he did with his spare time. He's not great at it, but has enough knowledge to make himself understood mostly... mostly.     When he recognizes it, he grins and lifts his hands to get Berri's attention, waiting for her eyes to slide his way. Then he signs: <Please join us. Sit. Food good?> And as a miracle, he doesn't ask about bathrooms or pencils. Then he slowly spells out his first name. Wendell.. gesturing to himself. And...     He looks to Xiang and smiles, "I apologize. I do not know your name. I am Wendell."
Xiang Zhao	Xiang Zhao does not, alas, seem to understand the sign language. He watches the gestures, and knows it's probably some form of communication, but that's as far as it goes. He shakes his head. "Apologies. I do not understand what you try to say." And whatever is signed by the besuited man... is equally mystifying to Xiang Zhao. He eats another bite of the food. He seems at least comfortable with the fork. He finishes the bite before answering Wendell's question. "I am Xiang Zhao," he says. And how he says it, makes it seem like one name rather than two.
Berri	Those first motions had been a greeting, an introduction offered and easily repeated. <My name is Berri,> she offers, spelling out her own name before turning her gaze to Xiang and and then back to Wendall. <You can tell him I am not deaf, I just don't talk.> Truth be told, it had been a while since she'd actually been able to use sign rather than simply making use of text messages or writing things down. Or her telepathy...but she didn't tend to advertise that.
Wendell Vaughn	And then there is the fact that Wendell wouldn't hear the telepathy today. Damned shielding. Wendell laughs and nods, "Well, today I'll translate for you." he says aloud.     Then he looks over and says, "May I call you Zhao?" if only because he is assuming the old school traditional outfit means old school traditional manners where the family name is spoken first.     "It turns out that Berri here... that's her name. She is not deaf. She can hear, just doesn't speak. So she'll sign and I'll translate, okay?" he asks as he lifts his can of coke, and then takes the last drink of it.
Xiang Zhao	With how people in this world tend to be sometimes, it's probably not a bad idea to not advertise telepathy except with people you trust. The fork has been laid down at this point, and Zhao's attention turned more fully to the two people here at the picnic table. The guess about his name is a good one, and there's pleasant surprise in his mind. It shows only as a tiny smile on his face. He inclines his head. "You may," he replies. Xiang Zhao's dark eyes shift from Wendell to Berri and he inclines his head to her too. "Hello, Berri. Welcome." He nods once to Wendell. "That is good. I do not understand.. sign, you called it?" Old school traditional manners mean the food is, temporarily at least, forgotten.
Berri	A nod from Berri, the silent girl with the pink hair smiles lightly. A tilt of her head, her hands move now, forming her words to communicate. <That is some interesting attire you're wearing Xiang Zhao,>
Wendell Vaughn	A smile spreads over Wendell's face, and he lifts a hand to hide it a bit. But then he shakes his head and looks from Berri to Zhao. "So, she likes your clothing. Traditional Chinese attire I believe. But I am not enough of a history nut to know which era it may have originated in. My own outfit is traditional Wall Street. Right off the rack of Men's Warehouse." he adds in jest.
Xiang Zhao	Despite himself, Xiang Zhao's eyes are drawn to the woman's moving hands. And then move immediately back up to her face before looking to Wendell for the translation. At the translation, he looks down at his clothing. "This was made a year ago. Where my clan lives, we do not have much modern technology," he explains. "And we do not get a lot of people from outside. So this is what we wear." He pauses for a moment. "What is.. Wall Street? And Men's Warehouse?" If that statement was a jest, it seems to have gone right over Zhao's head.