2472/Kaldur Loves Surfacer Food

Kaldur Loves Surfacer Food
Date of Scene:	16 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Aqualad, Spider-Man

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Aqualad has posed:
Surfacer food is, by far, the best part of being on liasion to the surface. At least, in Kaldur's opinion.

The tall Atlantean youth is wearing surfacer clothing; jeans, boots, a leather jacket. It blends fairly well, but his distinct features with the combination of dusky mocha skin and platinum eyes make for a vivid and unusual appearance.

Also, he doesn't work hard at covering his gills.

The warrior looks at the menu overhead, laboriously translating English in his head. There are of course talismans that can aid with this, but Kaldur is trying to develop his language skills instead of using magical crutches. He looks a little uncertain at what to get, and is unaware that he's blocking the line behind him.

"Next!" the cashier calls, looking to Kaldur expectantly.

Spider-Man has posed:
A young man, possibly in his late teens or early twenties, was sitting at a nearby table, munching on what looked to be potato chips. But he was having a hard time with them. It was a perplexed face that he wore. "You know Ramy," he seemed to be addressing the guy behind the counter with a name tag that read 'Ramy', "I can't decide whether I hate these PopCorners, or love them." He was referring to a new item added to the menu that could accompany one's meal. Essentially, they were potato chips fashioned from popcorn, with a popcorn like taste. Of course, Peter was eating them pretty fast. So they were habit forming at the least. Holding out his bag to the man who was holding up the line, probably debating what to order, "what do you think?"

Aqualad has posed:
Kaldur glances over at the fellow who's facefirst in a bag of the snacks, once he realizes he's being addressed. His eyes flicker from Peter to Ramy then back to the snacks, then back to Peter.

"Hmm." He takes one and chews it, eyes going wide, narrowing, then going a little out of focus. "Hrrmhph. Those are... delicious. I, too, will have the PopCorners," Kaldur decides.

He scans a credit card and takes a few (long) moments to make sure the numbers all match up. The whole 'tax' thing seems to throw him a little, but he does the math again and it's all correct.

Kaldur turns to face Peter. "Thank you for the recommendation," he tells the man. "It is a struggle to make a choice with so many excellent options available."

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter also had a shawarma on his plate, which of course isn't too different from a burrito, taco, and similar fare. Basically, meat and vegetables wrapped in a very thin type of bread. "Glad you like it." Peter still couldn't decide whether he liked it or not, and in the end, he found he probably didn't like it. "If you want, you can have the rest of my bag too." The man looked a bit off, but in a world full of mutants and other things, very little phased him anymore. "Want to join me? My name's Peter, Peter Parker."

Aqualad has posed:
"My thanks, friend. I will not deprive you of your meal. I am Kaldur'ahm. My friends call me Kaldur." The Atlantean youth sits and offers a handshake to Peter; it's a bit rehearsed instead of organic, but his grip is firmly self-assured and he smiles a little.

Just a little.

"You are very polite, Peter Parker," Kaldur informs the other fellow. "It is a little welcome respite. I have found many New Yorkians to be somewhat ... unenthusiastic," he says, as delicately as he's able.

Spider-Man has posed:
For once, Peter is the nice, calm, and relaxed on. It's a rare position to find himself in, and he enjoys it. "Nice to meet you, Kaldur'ahm," though he might not get the pronunciation quite right. He has a good ear, but it's a foreign language, and it can be hard to notice the subtleties.

"Um, thanks." He actually had decided he wasn't too keen on the PopCorners, even if they are habit forming. "Yeah, that would sum up the general sentiment of New Yorkers." Rather than correct Kaldur, he was nice and offered the correct term, without even referencing the mistake, in the hope that Kaldur picked it up. After all, it can be hard to notice the subtleties.

Aqualad has posed:
The food is brought over to the table and Kaldur takes a few moments to settle himself methodically before eating. Napkin unfolded and placed over his leg in a very specific way, tray squared to the table, Kaldur squared to the tray; all good.

He's definitely got that 'look' about him, military or something close to it. Ordered and disciplined. He shakes a few of the snacks out and starts eating them one at a time, trying not to rush himself.

"You live in the city, then?" Kaldur inquires of Peter, trying to start a conversation. "I am still finding my way around. The city is incredibly massive; I don't know how you don't get lost."

Spider-Man has posed:
Peter could not be more disparate than Kaldur. Parker was wearing clothes that were probably a bit old, needing to be tossed out and replaced. He sat with poor posture. He used a napkin, though it has pretty much fallen into his lap and wasn't going to be much use to him if he needed it. He also ate with his hands, picking up the shawarma and taking a bite out of it. At least he didn't speak while chewing. So there was some hope for him yet. After swallowing, he nodded his head, "yeah, I can see how it could take some getting used to. The subways, bus stops, and such all have a pretty good map, but if you ever need help, there's always Google. Where are you from?"

Aqualad has posed:
"Poseidius," Kaldur remarks. "It is an underwater city, located two thousand kilometers west of your nation of Ireland," he clarifies, opening up one of the honey mustard dipping cups. He seemes pleased with the new combination of flavors after dipping the popcorner in it, and offers the cup to Peter.

"I have started to explore Queens and the layout of the city is very confusing," he admits. "The Googles are helpful at times, but confusing at others. I do not understand why so many of the streets are laid out in such a way-- I can see where I need to go, but I can never seem to get there from where I am. And the law enforcement frowns on using the streets unless I am in a car, and I do not have a license."

Spider-Man has posed:
"Underwater?" Peter repeats, surprised by that. He raises a hand, "thanks, but you should enjoy it." He already did decide he wasn't too keen on the taste. "Numerically for the most part, though there's also a lot of history. This one or that one does something people should remember, so they name a street after it and forget about the person, usually. It's kind of funny that way. But their name lives on. So, uh, underwater... what brought you to New York?"

Aqualad has posed:
"I am part of the Atlantean diplomatic corps," Kaldur explains to Peter, pushing some mustard around and taking another bite. "My lord King Orin recruited me from his Royal Guard earlier this year." He frowns thoughtfully.

"We discussed at length where I might serve Atlantis. London, Beijing-- several other locations."

"But with the United Nations here, this seemed the most popular choice. And with so many heroic teams located in the area, there was additional incentive. King Orin has been an ally of the Justice League himself for many years."

Spider-Man has posed:
There was a quizzed look from Peter, but it was hard to tell which part of the story he had trouble with. Funnily enough, it was with the Justice League. He understood it had only formed several months ago, but then, he didn't have much dealings with people on that level, even when he donned his spandex, not that the suit was actually made of spandex. But it was a lot shorter than the scientific name for what his costume was composed of. "Oh, okay. That's interesting." He kept thinking he should probably ask the guy to pose for a photo. Maybe it would be of interest to the Bugle. But there was no easy way to bring it up. Truly, he was a failure as paparazzi. "The League, Kings, the closest I've ever come is being from Queens."

Aqualad has posed:
That was actually a fairly clever joke, but the wordplay goes over Kaldur's head. He frowns at Peter, thoughtfully. "My home is located in Queens," he says. "Titan Tower. If you find yourself in the area, do let me know." He rises, then, his food finished. "Farewell, Peter Parker. I must return to my duties. I hope your day is well with you." With a wave, Kaldur ambles towards the door.