It was a small bistro somewhere in middle Manhattan with a second floor accented by large clear windows and a classical appearance. The panes were edged in silver trim, and they overlooked the city with a watchful gaze. The smells of baked goods drifted through the building and mingled with the aromas of fresh coffee, and the bell pinged as people moved back and forth through the door; Evelyn considered it her favorite place the ‘watch the world go by’, and often dragged Jensen here to get a cup of coffee. He would drink the black beverage while she sipped a sweeter chai latte, and from her window on the first floor she sat and listened to the echoes of the world. As water glittered on the edge of the glass, she watched people pass quickly by, huddled under umbrellas or marching boldly through the water. Different people’s reactions to the rain showed different personality traits much like everything else, and she was fascinated by those little revelations.

A business man in a suit moved delicately through the streets, careful where he stepped and staying far from edge of the sidewalk. [Experienced with the city and it’s habits. Rain is only a mild deterrent from errands. Face carefree, not annoyed, suggests confidence in what he does.] Evelyn smiled at the little note, and turned her attention to the next individual. A blond haired girl with hunched shoulders, arms crossed, boots and slow steps that left her soaked by the water. [Lived on the streets, experienced with bad weather. Dislikes it, but knows how to endure it. Defensive posture, dislikes engaging with other people in conversation, yet facial expressions shows she wishes it were otherwise.] Evelyn could relate a little to that. She took a sip of her drink, and sighed, looking into the opaque liquid. The difference with her was she resisted engaging with people, because conversation always seemed to end badly.

Turning to the coffee shop, the stairs out of sight to the left, she watched the ‘echoes’ coming off of the occupants. The barista was clearly stressed out by her boss, and another young teen was trying ever so casually to flirt with her, which only seemed to make her more nervous. A middle aged couple struggled with their marital problems, a lone writer clicked away at her keyboard, immersed in the virtual world. But a man near the front counter caught her attention the most.

From the time he stepped through the door, his curious appearance alerted her, and she felt herself unwillingly taking mental notes on what she saw. [Pants pressed, lines uneven. Hair disheveled, uncertainly gazing towards more caffeinated drinks. Fiddling with ring on finger, glancing at watch frequently...] As she proceeded to analyze the signs, her mouth pulled into a small frown, and she felt Jensen shift at her side.

"Let it go, Evelyn. It isn't worth it."

The younger woman, turned slowly to her handler, and felt a small little smile curl the corners of her mouth. Then she disobediently rose to her feet, and set the cup lightly down on the bar top. "I'll be back momentarily." She said, and straightening the white fabric of her skirt [High dollar skirt, worn, but show signs of being well cared for. Second hand, perhaps, but ---] Turning her focus to the front counter, she moved to the magazine rack next to the line, and quietly rose her blue eyes to the man, a small amount of silver in the irises.

"You shouldn't cheat on her, you know." The remark flowed from her mouth with a soft melodic tone, and she let her eyes return to the magazines. The man visibly jolted as he turned to face her, and she could feel his gaze sharpening. [Defensive posture confirms previous suspicion, quick eye movements sizing up situation.]

"Cheating on who?" He remarked, and tried to cover up his previous surprise. Evelyn turned back to him, and nodded at his wedding ring.

"Your wife of course. She obviously cares a lot for you. It's a shame you don't do the same." This time she didn't turn back to the magazine, and she was prepared for his growing irritation. Behind her, she could hear the squeak of a chair alerting her that Jensen was listening in. But she was determined to follow through with this, and ignored it.

"I am not cheating on my wife. Who do you think you---"

"Do you always iron your own pants?"[/b]

"No, usually my wife does, but"

"She irons them at the same place every time, leaving rather stiff lines down the side. It shows a keen eye for detail and the attention she pays to your clothing. You have tried to re-iron them, but the lines are shaky and you've managed to create a new crease on the left hand side. Even after ironing, there are still subtle wrinkles on the bottom of the legs, suggesting they spent the night left wherever they fell. A wife with such attention to detail wouldn't have left them that way even if you had thrown them there. You fiddle with your wedding ring, but your finger is well tanned around it. That doesn't suggest that you are new to wearing it, but perhaps you only recently placed it back on your finger. Perhaps you took it off for the night, and have only just placed it back on." The echoes were bouncing off of him like a mental show for her now, and he just stood, frozen as she continued. "You glance at your hand every few moments though, trying to confirm it's there, because you don't want to get caught without it. You keep glancing at the coffee menu, gaze lingering on the caffeinated coffee choices, but then keep turning back to the tea and smoothies. You don't typically drink anything caffeinated, but your long night has tempted you to try one, just as you were tempted to explore the relationship with your coworker."

His face grew a little red, but his shoulders slumped, and he fidgeted with his watch and his hand hovered above the ring. "She was probably wild, rebellious, so unlike your meticulous wife, who always has to have every detail in place. You feel controlled, and you want to feel like the alpha again, feel the rush from your younger days. So you're tempted by the younger female. But you miss all the little things your wife does to try and please you. The careful coordination of your tie and blazer, the ironing, even the ring you wear on your finger were all her efforts to show she cares. And yet you lie to her, say you work late, and try to cover the evidence of your affair. If you really do care for your wife, you'll take a good long look at those pants you so hastily ironed, and consider my suggestion." With a soft little smile, she took the magazine and returned to her seat.

She didn't have to look to hear what was happening behind her. She could hear the man shuffle slowly in place, then reach in his pocket for his phone. There was the quiet click of fingers on the keypad, then after a pause, he spoke into the mouth piece. "Cherill? We need to talk." It was hard to tell which woman was on the phone, but from the quiet guilt that was settling into his face as he moved to the door, it didn't seem to matter at the moment. Evelyn sighed, and turned to her magazine, looking down at the glimmering headlines, and flashy words screaming Mutants: What are they, and What can YOU do About them?. She snorted slightly at the irony. [Choice of magazine a subconscious longing for normalcy to counteract the evident display of mutant abilities.] She cringed slightly at the mental jab, but there was no reason to argue with the echoes. After all, she was a mutant, and as much as she tried to deny it, times like this made her that much more unsettled by her identity.

"You promised you would be more careful about doing that. Eventually, someone will notice." Jensen quietly said. Evelyn shot him an apologetic look, but made no excuses for her actions. They both new she couldn’t sit back when her echoes showed her something unsettling. As she sighed and picked back up her cup, she stared back out the window at the people passing by. The echoes could tell her so much about the world and people, but it left little room for any sort of normal lifestyle. Sure, Jensen would always be here, but who would want anything to do with a mutant like her?

Absentmindedly, she flicked the magazine open, and let the pages move past. The words were partially drowned by the echoes in her mind jabbering about typeface choices, the meaning of the grid, and the body language of the different models. Somewhere in the back of that chaos, however, her ears perked at the sounds of approaching footsteps and she lifted her head to face the approaching figure.

It was late!

Or early for normal folks. However, the blood splattered, grey sweatshirt wearing mutant was by no means normal. In fact, he would probably take that as an insult to being called a human, a pathetic species that only ruled through its shear number from uncontrolled growth. However, there was a new species on top of the food chain: Homo superior. And over time, they would rise up against the weak rulers of this world and take what was rightful theirs.

However, Shade would need his morning coffee first before he could accomplish such grant schemes, when it was more of his late night. For, the death-dealing, shadow jumping, night stalker had been up all night on a very important mission: torturing a poor little redhead by refusing her to get any sleep. A most grand scheme that was revenge for her addition to the tattoo Shade had asked her so nicely for. Was it too much to ask a fellow mutant for a little courtesy?

Anyways, now sleep deprived himself, Shade was in need of a slight pick-me-up before returning to his duties for the Order, his real duties. So he decided to visit a nearby coffee shop for his caffeine kick. Certainly, the Orderling could have simply gotten a cup of joe from the cafeteria in the Sanctuary. However, he was in the mood for something special, something with a little more flavor, and something a tad bit more expensive.

Therefore, he had come down to this little coffee shop, a spot that he had visit once before, back when being a mutant meant a trip in the camps. Back then, he had met a special mutant capable of shifting her appearance (Sonya, the name appeared in his head) to discuss plans on attacking a local mutant registration post. It had been a crazy time back then.

Entering the shop and stepping out of the rain, Shade slammed right into a businessman walking out on his cellphone. The shadow mutant's first instinct was to stab the man in his kidney, but Shade restrained himself. Shaking off the loose droplets of water, Shade pulled his hood down, revealing his strikingly pale face, hair, and eyes. His piercing gaze involuntarily shot to the exact spot where he had met Sonya so many years ago. Seated there was a woman with almost as white hair as Shade's. Their eyes collided for an instant before the shadow mutant ripped his gaze away and proceeded to the line of people, waiting for their coffee. When it was Shade's turn, he scanned the large board of choices above the woman's head before gesturing towards the person who went before him.

"I'll just have whatever they are having." Shade replied simply. He didn't really understand this coffee shop lingo.

Evelyn had seen all types of people during her years here in New York, but that didn't mean she was immune to surprises. The figure that came through the doors (and nearly mowed over the business man) was unique, and it was clear from the beginning; perhaps that was what gained her attention.

He had soft footsteps compared to most, and when he removed his hood, she was pleasantly surprised by the strikingly pale hair. While people often died their hair bleach blond, the echoes he was giving off pointed out the natural transition of color from scalp to tip. The thing about natural blond hair was it tended to match the skin of the people it was attached to. Evelyn was fair, her skin a pale color compared to most, and this individual evidentally could use some more sun. Or could he. As he turned, and she caught his eyes, her echoes went wild with new information. [Bright blue eyes, pale skin and hair, lack of pigmentation. Albinism. Effects hair, skin, and perhaps eyes. OCA. Stage of albinism and pigmentation level suggest OCA2.] Her science courses had paid of this time, yet the information was interesting, not necessarily useful. The real information was hidden in his behavior, and that was what she left her attention focus on as he moved his attention to the front of the cafe.

[Dark stains on sweater, stiffness around stains. Suggested thicker substance stained. Blood? Further analysis needed. Posture against rain defensive, yet does not leave when stepping indoors. Hood removed, but body language still defensive. Posture stiff, yet eyes show signs of sleepiness. Individual is alert despite lack of sleep. Gaze was defensive, challenging, body language suggest hostility towards other yet movement does not suggest sees others as a threat. Predatory.] The last bit of information was what she needed. She frowned slightly, and Jensen grumbled. Before she looked away, she saw the manner he scanned the board. His gazed passed across it, and the manner it lingered on different options shows he was not a regular with this form of drink. As she turned back to her magazine, her suspicions were echoed by his choice.

"I'll have whatever they're having."

But what would this man want here at a coffee shop? He was slim in build, fairly tall, likely over 6 foot, and seemed to be in his twenties, although possibly on the later edge of it. There was a different sort of age in his eyes though. Those were not the eyes of someone who just pushed pencils at a desk. Those were the type of eyes that had seen wars, or battles. But his body language didn't match. A soldier would stand to attention, apologize for running into someone, or even perhaps confront the individual if he was a bolder soldier. There was a crispness to the military persona, a manner of talking, a precision they couldn't get rid of. None of this was evident in the newcomer.

Therefore, it could be eliminated from possibility.

What was left then? The darkness had to come from somewhere, and hints from his attire suggested it came from the man himself. Maybe he was dangerous. A killer, possibly, but someone who had seen death? Certainly. The scar on his right cheek suggested he'd fought, but he seemed to slim to take out someone with his bare hands... His appearance was unique, but it could be accounted to just by albinism alone. But she couldn't rule out mutant, not yet. There was always the possibility, and where possibilities lied, curiosity must seek answers.

Unwillingly, Evelyn found herself glancing back at the stranger, trying to find the last echo she needed to complete the picture.

Shade was distracted by his drink selection to notice the twitching eyes of observant mutant as they darted over his features, carefully analyzing them against her massive library of facts stuffed into her brain. However, after receiving his "Soy Caramel Macchiato with whipped cream and a double shot of espresso", paying eight dollars for his ridiculous drink and taking a seat against the coffee shop from the other white haired mutant in the restaurant, Shade's eyes traveled around the small establishment until they again locked with the young woman's. She quickly averted her gaze but returned shortly before moving away again as she caught Shade's unmoved eyesight.

Shrugging slightly, the shadow mutant returned to his steaming drink. The woman appeared uncomfortable which was a natural reaction around the death dealing mutant. Swirling the contains of his coffee, Shade took a sip, only to burn the tip of his tongue in the process. Coughing slightly at the experience, the shadow stalker quickly grabbed a napkin, bringing it to his mouth to remove the sprinkles of coffee that had covered his face, sweater, and table.

After cleaning himself up, Shade tried to take another slower drink from his beverage. He had to admit that it wasn't bad, and a lot better than anything in the Sanctuary's cafeteria. Nodding approvingly, the shadow mutant replaced his drink on the table as he looked around the coffee shop once more.

Evelyn was fascinated by what she was reading, and the temptation to look further had a pull on her she couldn't quite resist. The cold gaze was challenging, unafraid. She was fairly certain there was something deadly about him; that cold stare was not just from someone who lacked fear, it was the type of stare that came from a hunter. He was someone to look out for, and most people would move away.

Evelyn, however, was not most people.

And so she got her her feet once more, and picked up her latte. The movement settled her decision in her mind, and she felt pleased with her choice. Sure, it was not the most intelligent option. But it would be the most revealing. "Jensen, I think I'm going to go talk to a killer. I think it could be an enriching conversation." She said, giving her handler a strange smile. Her handlers expression seemed unmoved, but her echoes sent the worry hidden in his features. He knew better than to stop her though. Evelyn was quiet, well mannered, but there was a reason she was nick-named Holmes. She had a sense of curiosity that couldn't be quenched, and it carried her across the cafe, where she planted herself at the stranger's table.

The Game's Afoot

"So, do you make a habit out of murder, or it just something you do when the opportunity arises?" The question came from her mouth with all the formality of someone asking how the weather was over tea. She took a sip of her latte, her blue eyes focusing on her face, the irises pale in color, almost a grey color. Her white hair sat across her shoulder, bangs blocking all of her forehead, and her long eyelashes just touched the bottom edge of the white locks. She watched his face, waiting for any subtle changes she could see. Everything from the direction his eyes flicked to the way he changed his postures would give her the clues she wanted. He, in return, now had a chance to see his fellow coffee patron up close. Her expression held only a small trace of nervousness, the rest was a form of fascination and a lingering thirst for knowledge. The world had so many shades of black and white, Evelyn was always eager to watch what made someone who they were. She had a way of intruding into peoples more intimate natures, simply to answer an age old question.

Why.

While Shade was watching a nearby couple flirt with each other while being absolutely oblivious to the rest of the world, the strikingly white haired woman managed to walk across the small cafe and seat herself across from the shadow mutant. A look of slight surprise passed over Shade's face at her presence, but it quickly vanished beneath the evil smirk that crossed his face at her first choice of words.

"Do you make a habit of approaching random men, or just when the opportunity arises?" Shade asked, echoing the words of the fair skinned woman across from him and avoiding the young woman's question.

He found the woman perplexedly interesting. She seemed to Shade like a delicate white flower. Her skin, her face, and her attire, everything appeared in order, down to the small details. And yet, this delicate flower who cared enough about her appearance to have every detail in order was willing to risk her life by approaching who she believed to be a murderer. Obviously, this woman was some kind of activist of some sort.

(OOC: I hope that is enough. I kind of died out at the end there.)

"Only when there is something about them that interests me." Evelyn said, smiling right back at him in a far less evil, but nonetheless disconcerting way. She sipped her drink, and glanced back over where the nearby couple was flirting. The girl was obviously interested, but her echoes showed her something else. "She's wasting her time... He's gay." she said with what almost sounded like a purr in her voice, then she turned back to the stranger. They weren't quite as interesting at the moment.

How she longed to see what someone else thought of her. She must be puzzling, to be sure. She disregarded many social boundaries, and flirted with danger in the pursuit of the unknown. Sometimes, she acted to help, when she believed speaking up was necessary. Like she had with the first man. Sometimes she spoke up just out of her own curiosity. She was a bit self-interested in that way.

"To be honest, I typically watch from a distance. But there are some things that take closer analysis and the study is sometimes worth the social faux pas. You're a stealthy individually, you are good at masking your body and facial expressions, but your eyes... not so much. They are a revealing feature on you. Most people probably get distracted by your albinism---type OCA2 if my guess is correct---or are too focused on whatever you're threatening them with.....you seem like a knife person." Another sip of the drink, a hand pushed her hair out of her face and her eyes sharply focused on him. Then she smiles and shrugged. "But in this setting you drop your guard long enough to give such information away. You don't seem to be a coffee drinker, at least nothing this fancy. So both of us are in a situation we wouldn't otherwise be in."[/b] She shrugged as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Eyes were the windows to the soul, and every sentence she spoke could give her information in a normal person; this stranger tended to keep his stare focused on her, however, so she lost some of the revealing yet subtle flicks of eye cues. But that didn't mean they weren't unresponsive. The way the lines on his forehead would pull forward, eyes narrowing, eyes widening, a blink... Eyes could show fear, anger, hostility, and curiosity. Right now, there was still a decent mix of many things. She would just have to watch for the warning signs: when your quarry started to show anger, especially when he had the means to act on it, meant it was time for a retreat. she was playing with a time bomb. But it was much more curious than watching people out in the rain.

((ooc: no problem. Hope this gives you enough to work with))

It was somewhat unnerving for a person to point out the little clues that revealed unspoken secrets about one's self. And it caused Shade unconsciously to draw back into his shell. His shoulder hunched forward slightly and his hands drew closer. However, this woman was also most intriguing, and Shade's telling eyes brightened at her observations. She was like one of those private investigators that got off at discovering the deepest secrets of others, maybe not the activist like he had first thought. The main reason the shadow mutant took an interest in this...weird woman was that if she could discover the small details that gave Shade away to an opponent, then he could use the information to better mask his presence.

His genetic condition was something one could easily look up, or she might have been a medical student. His uncomfort on entering the coffee shop and lack of knowledge upon drink selection could have easily been detected by everyone in the store. However, how had she known that he used knives.

"Knife person? What gave it away?" Shade asked, glancing down at his hands. They were calcited and scarred from their continuous use. It would make sense if she had already thought he was a killer.

"Aw, my hands." The shadow mutant said, replying to his own question as he revealed the rough skin of his palms. But what about being a murderer? What had caused her to immediately jump to Shade most special of profession?

"Okay, so why do you think I am a killer?" Shade asked, leaning forward slightly, his uneasiness at her prodding having disappeared. Instead, he was finding this conversation very interesting. Much intersting then his coffee that he had all but forgotten about.

[Body language suggests evident discomfort with analysis. Shoulders moving inward, hand movement reflect mental instinct to protect oneself. Individual is used to secrecy. Invasion of privacy shows need to defend.] He was still young enough to show such defensive signs. To her eyes, that meant he was still 'young' in the killer sense. He killed, but something of it perhaps stemmed from self-defense, and was gradually developing.

His question about the knife made her smile. The echoes traveled from her mind to her mouth. "Personality, body language. A person who wields a gun will let their hands linger around their belts, guard their back if it's concealed. The prefer distance, keep their target at a far range. There hands are steady, they are quick to make decisions... A knife person is stealthy, cautious. They have to get within the range of their victim to make a move, and in order to do that takes experience. You're fairly young, in the grand scheme of things. While it's likely you could have learned to master a gun, a knife is far more likely. Easy to come by, and your defensive nature reflects the weapon. Most people who take up a knife do it out of defense, and that seems more likely." There were plenty of overlaps between the two weapons, and it was by no means conclusive by itself. Then she nodded to his hands. "Your hands are heavily worn, scarred. You're not just someone who stands at a distance and fights that way. You get involved. Another thing. Your eyes. Albinism usually comes with at least some sensitivity to light. Guns are highly dependent on eyesight. But all you need to draw a knife is good muscle memory and fighting skills." Another sip of her drink, and a shrug of her shoulders, as if it was the simplest of all statements.

She could hear a squeak of a chair behind her as Jensen readjusted in his chair, pulling the magazine over and starting to flip through it. He was still listening, she was sure of it. But at least he was relaxed enough to let the conversion continue some more. "Your attitude towards others is hostile, defensive. Your movements are calculated, and your gaze is cold, calculating. Your sweatshirt is stained, your hands are scarred, there's a small scar on your cheek. People have something that lurks in their eyes, their features, once they've killed. The way they focus on others and engage with others. There is a momentary rage, followed by a calm because they could eliminate the problem if they wanted to. Does that explain enough?" She sipped her drink and tilted her head to the side, long white hair spilling over her shoulder, her perfectly manicured hands holding her cup like it was the most fragile thing in the world. There was such a gentle nature to her appearance that the little dark glimmer in her eyes was unnerving. She may have the face of an angel, but she had seen the minds and understood the actions of all kinds of monsters. Tainted by their darkness, and entranced with the curiosity of their actions, she may not be one of them, but she did enjoy simply understanding.

The blond's explaination of how she knew he was a killer was entertaining, and Shade laughed outright at her obversations. She made everything sound so...simple. Since certain characteristics were present, the conclusion was all but obvious, at least to her. There was no doubt. No second guessing required. Everything she witnessed was fact in her eyes.

"Wow, I must say, you have a gift." Shade said softly, maybe somewhat sarcasticly. However, Evelyn's display of her mutation (which the night stalker confused with confidence in her ability) caused the shadow mutant to want to see more examples of her skills. Glancing around the small coffee shop, Shade pointed at the patron who was tapping away at the typewriter in front of him.

"Do him next." He said before catching himself.

"If you don't mind." Shade added as his face spread into a grin. This was turning out to be a very interesting morning. The grugginess that he had felt this morning was nowhere to be found now. The show that the blond-haired woman was putting on had eliminated any feelings of tireness that he might have had before.

The body language of the stranger began to change, and ever so slowly, his tension turned to laughter. He found her observations amusing. Most people would read the laughter as taunting, but Evelyn saw it for what it was. There was a small amount of fascination in what she did, and it was almost like she were a form of entertainment now

. Many people felt that way at first. The thing about her echoes was they revealed so much. To the outsider, the process was fascinating: the art of deduction could reveal so much by just looking for subtle clues. But the point it stopped being 'fun' was when you became the target. As your own actions, reactions, habits and personality traits were picked out, you felt more generic, predictable, less... original. Evelyn wasn't immune to her powers either. When she gazed in the mirror, she could see her own weaknesses. But with time, she hoped to learn to control them, and become unreadable to the world.

"Gift... perhaps. I think it depends on how you look at it. Somethings are perhaps meant to be private, but you take what you get, one way or the other." The sarcasm didn't bother her, little really did. The world was just something to read, explore, and engage with. As he pointed to a 'target', Evelyn found herself obliging, if nothing more than for the momentary entertainment this was offering. [Light wrinkles on face, creases on forehead, greying hair yet still young. Line around finger, fading. No wedding band. Clothes hang loose, squints at screen. Hands shake ever so slightly when not typing.]

"Workaholic... wife recently left him. His clothes don't fit, he's lot a lot of weight, and he doesn't wear his wedding band, which suggests a stressful breakup. The way he squints at the screen and the way his posture is hunched over suggests he spends a lot of time at the computer working. Most likely the cause of the split up. Pre-maturely greying, stress went on for awhile, so there was a long time struggle between the couple. Slight shaking of hands, look of sadness suggests something triggered the final break up, and the experience was traumatic." If she could see his screen, she could probably gather more, but it was hard to tell from here. The computer was fairly old, not quite outdated but he could use a new computer. His hard work didn't seem to really be paying off. His shoes and clothes were worn, and he seemed drained to the core. Evelyn felt a trace of mercy. It seemed like an unfortunate place to be in life.

The shadow mutant turned to target of their little game while the little detective did her thing. She gave Shade a broad description before running through the multitude of observations that she had used to draw her conclusion. As she named off each feature, the night stalker took note of each detail as she listed them. Shade had to take her word for it on some of the observations. Obviously, she had better than him, at least in the light. Of course, that was probably due to his physical mutation which she had so piercisely described.

Shade chuckled as the blond haired beauty finished. It was fantastic to watch her pick apart a person with words, like Shade would have picked apart a person with his knife. Maybe, that was why he was find her so entertaining, her attention to detail. Details were everything when stealth was involved. One mistake could mean death. Details were the difference between life and death.

"Well done! I feel like I could almost follow you there." Shade exclaimed, returning his icy gaze to the woman across the table from him.

"Do you mind if I give it a try?" The shadow mutant asked, his eyes already darting around the cafe to find a potential victim as he licked his lips as if he were hungry. However, as he searched, another thought envaded his mind concerning the only person in the cafeteria that he was not eyeballing, Evelyn.

With her talents, the blond should have been rather wealth. And although she did not appear to be poor, the observant mutant did not to be incredibly rich either. With her abilities, she could have been running the tables in Las Vegas or the stocks on Wall Street. However, she was here, in a small coffee shop in the middle of Manhattan, on a work day. So that could only mean that she rode the moral high ground by not using her ability to gain such advantages, or she was embarrassed by it, only revealing her ability when she...how had she put in...wanted "closer anaylsis". But why would she be embarrassed?

Shade's eyes traveled back to the blond before him as the question rang in his head. His facial features had turned serious for moment when he had lost himself in thought. However, he broke out his smile again as he waited for an answer from the woman before him, a smile that did not quite make it all the way up to his eyes.

(OOC: That turned out a little longer than I had planned at first. I was thinking about analysing the cashier woman/ teen flirting with her if you did not suggest anyone in particular. Let me know if you have any thoughts about the thread.)

Evelyn watched the stranger. The longer she did, the more information she picked up. He was a preditor, much like she guessed, even licking his lips at the thought of tearing someone up with words. she was fairly certain that was how he saw it. To him, analysis would serve as a weapon. To her, it was simply facts, facts to be dangled out in the air, like dust to be clicked off a shoulder or a book. She rarely used her gifts in such a way that they would harm or upset someone, at least intentionally. She tried to control her echoes, not let them control her. but she almost envied what he could probably do. Beyond her information, she had nothing really to keep her safe. Jensen was her protection, and she wished she were as skilled and deadly as her companion.

"You can if you'd like. Profiling is fairly common, and much of what I do reflects common techniques even law enforcement use. People can be unpredicatable and do the 'unlikely', but you can formulate conclusions based on what you know and 9 times out of 10, it will stand up against evaluation." Evelyn said with a shrug. She smiled slightly. "Some people have great poker faces, but they don't always learn to guard the rest of their movements. I like watching cards because there are all the subtle giveaways when people bluff and act... Heck, even at an auction. When someone is about to bid at an auction, their entire demenor changes; they straighten their back, pull their card close... A good auctioneer picks up on that and that's how they know when to end the bidding." she smiled.

His gaze was still focused on her though, [Chosen self as subject of interest. Intends to analyze, or at least considers it.] Fair enough. She had used her powers on him. Why couldn't he try to do the same. A slow smile spread across her face. Sometimes, people could peg her, point out the little things she did and what made her tick. But more often then not, people got her wrong. She wondered which he would be. "So...what do you see?" She said, taking a sip of her drink, fingers resting lightly on the cup.

Although Shade may have secretly been analyzing Evelyn in his head in a way comparable to the way she was analying his predatory behavior, he thought it might be better to start with someone a little more practical- and a lot easier for that matter. As the blond haired woman abliged him to try his skills of observation, the shadow mutant removed his eyes from hers before pointing at the teen that was desperately trying to get the cashier's number. Even a blind man could have seen what the boy was up to. As a customer left the line, the boy stepped up to the counter, leaning against it as he talked softly to the girl behind the counter.

"That is the third time that guy has approached the counter So either he really likes coffee or he is interested in the girl. He is leaning against the counter, meaning he wants to get closer to the cashier. The way he is smiling, his eye contact, the softness of his voice- it all suggests that he is trying to woe the lass." Shade stated, his eyes catching the small details without much trouble. The scene was rather easy for anyone in the crowd to read.

"However," Shade continued, shifting his gaze to the cashier. "The woman is not going for it. Her body position is upright, slightly leaning back, suggesting she wants to be further away from the boy. Her head is lowly shaking back and forth, her arm are out in front of her, meaning she wants to push him away. She is definitely not interested."

The shadow mutant finished before focusing back on the woman in front of him with a playful smile on his face. He was enjoying this little game, almost like girls enjoy gossiping about others behind their backs. Only they did not know their victims, the two human observers had only clues that revealed the secrets of the people around them.

"Care to expand on anything I miss?"

Evelyn smiled slightly as the man spoke. He didn't do bad, but much of what he picked up on was surface level. Anyone could sort out that someone liked or disliked a person by their body posture, but then again, that was the start. You had to learn to watch peoples reactions, how they engaged with others, and how they responded before you could look for any of the smaller details. She let her echoes engage, and smiled at him.

"Not bad, but that's just the beginning. You can easily tell how they feel about each other by how they interact. But answering why is the important thing. Watch the girl again. Notice how when she isn't helping customers she keeps messing with her necklace?" As the boy waited for his drink, the barista's hand drifted towards her neck. Evelyn watched her fingers lightly circle a small silver heart on it. [Necklace tarnished, inexpensive gift, heavily worn. Never takes it off, leaves small line around her neck. Worn on one side from oils of fingers.] "She has a sentimental attachment to it, but when she holds it in her hand, her face shows sadness, not happiness. A girl in love would have a lingering smile on her face, a glow to her cheeks, and she would rebuff flirtation attempts because she had someone. this girl rejects them, and her body language is defensive, but if you look at her eyes, she is sad about it. She wants to be interested, but someone broke her heart..."

She glanced at the boy now, and the echoes focused on small details; the way he would glance at his hands, the nervous tap of his foot, the subtle shift of expression into a smile. "Now, I bet you anything he's been in here before, but he's suddenly got bold enough to try flirting and approach her. How can I tell? He orders drinks without glancing at the menu, he pays for it without paying attention to the price, and he moves around the shop familiarly, knowing where to sit so he can gaze at her better. She however, doesn't seem to recognize him. I am guessing he's recently got braces removed, a hair cut, or the combination... yeah, his hair has a haircut look and the smile is ever so hesitant because he things he still have braces. She is so torn up by another guy, but I bet you he's always been there, trying to make her fall for him.... It's a whole soap opera." Rather than doing the typical female aweeeee empathetic action, she just seemed to look annoyed by it all. Love was silly, and she didn't really bother with it.

She let her thoughts trail off, and shrugged her shoulders once more at the shadow mutant. "You did pretty good, like I said. You just have to look at more than body language. Objects, belongings are also revealing. What a person looks at and what their gaze lingers on. Everything is a clue." She said softly.