2012-11-14 Moment of Zen

It had been a particularly fruitful meditation session the other night. Zen had reached some of the deepest layers of consciousness and found himself not only levitating in the lotus position in his room, but communing with his masters all the way back on Om. They had a long talk with him about making contact with martial arts masters of Earth. Zen's training was complete enough to send him out into the galaxy, but one's training is never over, they told him. And contacting them across the light years is difficult and time-consuming. The meditation is it's own reward, but he must seek out other masters, and learn other arts to add to his repertoire. Zen was told to seek out the Gold Dragon, and an image of Shang-Chi was put in his mind by his master. He would be found at the giant statue in New York City.

Now, we find Zen meandering through the crowds of tourists around the base of the great American lady. He certainly still gets wary looks, but his face is known around the world now, so he doesn't have to sneak around, at least. He has a camera around his neck, a hotdog in one hand, and a soda in the other. Nice lunch, 'ninja master'. Sigh. The Statue of Liberty. It is a place that is full of tourism. Yet, it is also a place that is full of history. It is here that Shang-Chi makes his first appearance in the City of New York. He has been here for at least a few hours now and out of respect for the city, he has chosen to see most of the sights on this particular day. It is a day that will allow him to become more familiar with his surroundings. It is also a day that he can spend at peace. There should be nothing life-threatening going on at the moment. Which Shang-Chi is more than happy to let continue to happen.

He stands among the crowd, a small pack hanging off his back and his hands clasped in front of him. Unlike some of the other New York tourists, Shang-Chi seems to be surrounded by an aura of calmness and tranquility. He is patiently awaiting his turn, while the rest of the crowd seems to be in some weird and twisted hurry.

Lucky for him, Zen's perception extends beyond mere physical sight, and the presence of such an accomplished Chi master in this sea of frenetic people stands out in the psychic plain like the calm in the middle of a storm he didn't even notice before Shang-Chi was noticed.

The sense of the man draws Zen's attention, and then he recognizes his face. Where Zen comes from, one does not just walk up to a master and introduce himself. Instead, Zen makes his way through the crowd, 'wolfing' down his hotdog by dissolving the whole thing quickly, tosses the last of his soda into a trash bin, and comes to stand a few paces behind and to the right of Shang-Chi while the man contemplates the statue. Zen can and will wait as long as it takes for the Chi master to acknowledge him waiting there. Perhaps Shang-Chi is a master to others, but the Master of Kung-Fu sees himself as something far less. Though, he too is very attuned to his surroundings and almost notices the approach of another before the approach was even began. Each movement was telegraphed in Shang-Chi's peripheral vision, from the hot dog to the tossing of the soda to the place where Zen hsa chosen to stand and wait.

"She is a masterful work of art. So perfectly flawed, yet so flawlessly perfect." are the words that are released from his lips. There is no need to raise his voice over the crowd's shenanigans as Shang-Chi knows that the one nearby will be able to hear him. It is the invitation to chat. The invitation to come and take the space that will be empty text to him in a mere moment.

Zen steps forward into the space left for him and bows his head, speaking softly into the man's mind. |"I was impressed with the work even before I learned how long ago in Earth's technological history it was made. It's age makes it even more impressive, to me."|

"Many things are made to withstand aging and time. Others, like this statue are meant to defy the odds." Shang-Chi feels no weirdness upon speaking with someone that is speaking directly into his mind. After all, he notices the creature had no mouth long before it was even close enough to see. Shang-Chi continues to keep his eyes on the statue. "I am called Shang-Chi." His name is offered with minimal subtlety.


 * "It's nice to meet you, master Shang-Chi. My name is Zen. My first master is stars away from here, and has encouraged me to seek you out. It's my hope to become your student."|

"I am afraid that you are mistaken, Zen. For I am no Master. I an but a student myself. I too have come to the City of New York in an effort to continue my training." Perhaps Shang-Chi's destiny is something that even he does not understand. Or know. It is strange. "While I am honored that you would seek me out for such training, I am afraid that I lack the necessary elements needed to do so properly."

"It will be an adventure, that is for sure." Shang-Chi says, looking up at the Statue even more. It is almost as if he's looking for something. Or someone. The way he just doesn't take his eyes off her. Even while he's engrossed in this weird conversation with what appears to be a Telepathic Martial Artist Alien. He's dealt with much worse from his father, so there is no shocking Shang-Chi. "I have yet to acquire a place to stay. Or a method of communication. Though, perhaps we can train together sometime. It would be an honorable experience."
 * "Oh,"| Zen says, mild confusion sent with the word as well. He's probably not used to his masters being contradicted, but then again, this man just might not realize his own greatness. But if Zen's masters identified the man, he /must/ be. But Zen would have to foster the relationship differently. |"I'm sorry, my mistake,"| he says, smiling in his way, with just eyes and eyebrows. |"But it's nice to meet another martial artist of quality in the city. I'm a recent immigrant here myself, but this seems like the city of immigrants. So, welcome to New York."| He grins and shrugs again.

Zen nods enthusiastically, |"I'm afraid I can't offer you a place to stay, but you can often find me training in Central Park. I would greatly appreciate a good sparring partner. Perhaps we could share techniques as well."| "I am sure we will meet again soon. It would seem that our paths were destined to cross. And I do not feel that this will be the last time they do." It is at this moment that Shang-Chi turns his attention from the Statue and over to Zen fully, completing the image he had gathered from using only his peripheral vision this entire time.

"Until our next meeting, Zen." Shang-Chi bows.

Zen bows as well, |"I'm sure you're right,"| Zen says, smiling inwardly. Of course Shang-Chi's words are true. Zen's masters on Om /told/ him to meet the man. It has to be important. |"Until next time, Shang-Chi."| As both Shang-Chi and Zen part ways, there is someone else in the crowd that has been standing there the entire time. He has been watching. Silently. Without movement. Draped in the finest of linens and too out of place to be noticed easily. The art of blending in by not blending in has obviously been mastered by this man.

The way the light hits, his facial features are still shadowed. However, an old hand reaches up to stroke at the thin hairs that hang from his face. His chosen mustache. His...

Fu Manchu.