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Tyson examined the whole curiously. He had seen many gun shots, and had been shot a few times himself, but that wound seemed different. It was different. A regular bullet went in small and came out the other side pushing whatever was in it's way out the other end. From the ring around the wound, he knew it ad been cauterized, but the exit wound simply did fit with any "gun" shot wound. Odd. Very Odd.

Leaning back he gave the girl a flat look, one of expressed reluctance. He held his hand across his chest in a gun-like manner, bent and unbent his fingers to give the impression of the weapon firing, and then shoot his head, the expression on his face remaining the same. He wasn't saying that she was lying, he trying to express the fact that he knew that wasn't a gun shot wound.

At this point, if this chick doesn't realize I'm mute, I can only guess the weird gestures I'm going to have to make to get that and my point across.

(Nope. Not a one. He only found out there were others with powers like him the night before. Also, Tyson signs like he would talk if he could.)

Now Maya had surprised him. It had been at least four months since he met another person who could understand sign language. The skill was like talking to him. You never really forgot how to do it. So Tyson straightened up and signed his response. If I did not, I'd be one anally screwed mute. Then, First off, where did you learn to sign? Second, I know that's not a gun wound. The hell did you do? Piss off a javelin thrower?

I think I understand what you mean by talented, He signed looking at the wound again. His head bobbed a bit as he thought about divulging his own wacky night, but seeing as he was the mute, he could probably get away with saying much more than she could. It was his emotionless signing versus her extravagant word of mouth. This mute you know sounds like one badass mother ********. Back to this girl you were talking-" Tyson stopped, glanced down at his hands and then continued "-Signing about? She has that short of a temper?" He titled his head and used his eyes to note the whole again. "You have to hate it when bitches start TRIPPIN." He slowly sighed out the spelling of the last word to give it added emphasis.

Tyson cracked a smile, but managed to keep himself from laughing at his own jokes. Where he to laugh at all, it would have been from the fact that she was laughing so hard. At this point, he had almost nearly forgotten about the whole talent aspect of their conversation that he almost didn't understand what she meant. When he finally did, he jumped from his seat and walked over towards the door as if to leave. Grabbing it, he opened the door quickly and then shut it, taking in a deep breath as he did. There were only three other people in the room, Omar included(I haven't forgotten about you), and none of them were looking up at the time of him doing what he needed to do. Tyson quickly dodged his way around a few tables and jumped back into the seat next to Maya. In the same jump, he grabbed a bottle of salt, popped the cap and spilled some contents onto the counter top. Still holding his breath, he brought his other hand around and pointed to the salt pile which suddenly became a small salt twister.

He cupped his little creation in his grasp until he could no longer hold his breath. Upon gasping for air, the twister tossed the salt in all direction but up into the air. Then he did something he could not do earlier. "I can manipulate moving air that already moving," he said in his low, toneless whisper of a voice. Immediately after saying that, he began to cough as if he had a soar throat, which now he did again. It let's me talk for a while. But doing it too long is painful.

Tyson glanced over his shoulder idly at Omar, giving him a less than pleasant once over before shrugging and turning his attention back to Maya. Can you tell that guy I don't work here? he asked. While he could ignore him, the last thing he wanted to do was get into some scrap over something he couldn't actually do. Seeing as I can't really talk at the moment, and aren't supposed to be able to talk either.

Omar was about to proceed to yell out again until he saw a news flash about a man being burned to deaf in the south district.

News lady: "Reports are in about Jose Mendez, wanted in several countries was burned to deaf approximately three days ago by what police investigators may believe to be gang related activities."

The camera paned in view of the corps to get a closer look. Forensic Photographers clicked and flashed pictures of the body. Police offers seemed to found evidence in the corps brittle hand but they let the Forensic photographers take pictures first.

Omar stared intently at the TV screen zoned out.

One of the police investigators found a red cloth that appeared to be a crimson blood handkerchief.

Omar was somewhat shocked to have just seen what he did"Could it actually be him after all these years..." He said to him self.

Tyson gave the T.V. screen a once over, and began shacking his head in silent dismay. That had have hurt. To further show his own surprise at the picture, he let out a long whistle, slowly descending in pitch. The scrunched face he made afterward, assured anyone who looked at him that he was genuinely surprised and not just making light of a small situation. He turned his attention back to Maya and was almost shocked when she asked about him being able to fight. Better than I'd like to admit, he sighed honestly. Being homeless, and the son of a martial artist are a weird combination. I'm like one of those homeless people you see Jacky Chan or Bruce Lee playing as on their movies. Too broke for the world, but kick a** anyways.