Owner	Pose
Drake Riley	It's somewhat early in the afternoon, and Coney Island doesn't see quite so much foot traffick during the colder months. The parks and carnivals, however, are still active - as well as the myriad other attractions still found along the boardwalks. The other day was a good chance to get out and try to feel like a normal person again for Drake. Today, he'll be making a renewed effort. Alas, he did not pick up any new clothing while he was at the mall. Clothes are expensive. Carnivals are expensive, too, but shh. He's content to look at things. Hands are stuffed firmly in his pockets and his frame kept somewhat rigid against the chilly air as he makes his way through. He'd been by here once before, way back towards when he first came to New York. But it was only that one time. And now, basically a year later, it feels rather different. Probably mostly because the beach isn't looking as appealing in this cold. Ugh. As Drake makes his way between stalls and attractions, his neck cranes to keep track of everything - as much as he can at least! Bumps might occur!
Nadia Pym	Clothes indeed are expensive. Especially when they're from the Van Dyne fashion house like the blouse & pants combo Nadia is sporting. Although she was lucky enough to receive her outfit as a gift! Still she has taken the precaution of adding a winter coat, it might not be as cold as a Russian winter but that's no reason to risk frostbite. Besides when you're worried about being tailed by evil Russian spies it's always a great plan to make sure you don't stand out too much. If only she could hide the obvious tourist face she's putting on as she wanders around Coney Island gawking at pretty much everything she sees.
Drake Riley	Not much someone can do about tourist face, unless they're actively being pursued by something or have a reason to be on guard. Neither seem to be in that position right now, which is why the inevitable is about to happen. Drake rounds a corndog stand and bumps into her - likely chest to shoulder. "Ack! Sorry," he quickly excuses and sidesteps, expecting her to be cross with the collision - or to at least have somewhere to go!
Nadia Pym	Given their respective builds it'd be pretty natural to expect Nadia to get knocked by the impact. But even as Drake is bumping into her the younger teen twists, turning the momentum into a ballerina twirl and slipping past. "Oh! It's no trouble I was just..." she replies with a touch of a Russian accent. "Trying to figure out if corndogs are some sort of corn-fed canine..." She shrugs. "I did ask the person running the stall but they didn't seem very helpful."
Drake Riley	Drake Riley watches her twirl around with a tilt of his head. A bit much! Or is she showing off? She might also just be an oddball. Whatever floats her ushanka! He leans around to look at the corndog stand, then looks back to her. "You're.. being serious, right?," he asks, her accent noted and filed away. "A corndog's like... okay, so you know what a hotdog is?"
Nadia Pym	"It's a type of sausage. I never really thought to ask what it was made from before," Nadia admits earnestly, glancing around at the surrounding crowds. "Not that I really mind. If I don't have problems with keeping cattle for meat then logically I shouldn't mind other animals receiving the same sort of treatment."
Drake Riley	"It's.. meat. I dunno what all's in it. Doesn't matter, you know what a hotdog is," nods Drake. "A corndog is a hotdog inside of bread. So basically a baked hotdog on a stick. I have no idea where corn comes in." Drake is neither a chef, nor dietician. Just a regular guy. And it's likely written all over his regular guy smile, completely guile-free. "Sorry I bumped ya, though. You okay?"
Nadia Pym	"But a hotdog is already served with bread..." Nadia points out, obviously bemused. "And don't worry I'm fine. If you twist with an incoming force it diminishes the effect. Besides, I'm a lot tougher than I look!"
Drake Riley	"Ah-huh..," says Drake, nonplussed with her explanation. "And I said /baked/. You don't bake a hotdog. But you do with a corndog. Or.. or deep-fry it. Whatever. Have ya ever had one? It'd make more sense if you just had one." He moves forward, this time to maneuver /around/ her rather than through her, to come to stand in front of the corndog stall. Everything is overpriced here, but... eh, screw it. His wallet's not gotten much work over the past year. Without waiting for her to agree to try it, he's already bought two corndogs. One he keeps for himself, and the other he offers tot he short girl. "Voila."
Nadia Pym	Nadia Pym doesn't seem to object to having people buy her food, but she does watch the preparation like a very suspicious hawk. She's either very hungry, unsure about the meal or worried Drake might be about to poison her. Maybe it's a little of all three. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a little snack now. I had been planning on looking around the whole place before I committed to spending any money, but if you're sure you are happy to pay...?"
Drake Riley	"It's already done!," chirps Drake as he bobs the corndog at her by the stick. "I mean, if you don't want it, I'll just eat it. But I got it for you. So..." The corndog continues its tantalizing dip-bob-swirl dance, attempting to entice the Russian.. exchange student, he's guessing?
Nadia Pym	With another shrug Nadia takes the offerred food, then without concern about decorum she takes a large bite out of the corndog. It's... probably quite anticlimatic all things considered. But hey it's free junk food so she can't complain. "It's not bad," she decides. "It might be better if they cooked some cheese in the middle as well as the meat. It'd be a little richer and more filling." She takes another bite. "I'm Nadia by the way, nice to meet you Mister..?"
Drake Riley	"Mister?," asks Drake, crinkling his nose at her. "Dude, I'm like your age. Or a little older. 'Mister', tsh. I'm Drake." The remaining corndog is raised and bitte. Chew-chew-swallow. "They make those. But not here, probably. This is just regular carny food. Like funnelcakes and stuff. Omigod, have you had funnelcake?" Eyebrows raise suspiciously at her. "And where're you from, Nadia?" Another bite is taken in the following silence.
Nadia Pym	"Funnel or Fennel?" Nadia checks cautiously. "Either way the answer is no. We didn't have a lot of cake back in Siberia. Poor rural area. Sometimes we'd have dried fruit bars but they're not really the same so..." She makes very short work of her own food. No concern for how unhealthy it might be or how unladylike she might seem.
Drake Riley	Drake Riley isn't exactly a silver spoon kind'a guy, so this doesn't bother him. His own corndog doesn't stand much of a chance, either. And once it's finished, he deposits the remaining stick in the nearby trash. At least the food was warm. That helps warm him a little. But her mention of 'fennel' cakes has him a little confused. Not really sure what that would even be. "No. It's like.. batter, I think. With powdered sugar. And maybe other stuff, I dunno how they do it here." He begins walking, likely expecting her to come along. "Siberia's where you're from? Eesh. Welcome to the States. How long's it been?"
Nadia Pym	"Is that really a cake then? Wouldn't it have more in common with a churro or doughnut?" Nadia muses, stepping to one side to allow a group of tourists to get by her and then following in Drakes wake. "Oh it's been less than a year since I came to America. Everything is still very strange but I'm getting by okay." "Have you ever been out of the country Drake?" She blinks. "Of America that is."
Drake Riley	"Nope. Never," Drake replies breezily as they maneuver along to the next stand. As advertised: funnelcake. It's not a complicated recipe, but a carnival standard. And this time, he only orders one. Sadly, they're the very plain kind. Turning again to Nadia, he resumes: "Donuts are round, and churros are... well, churros. Just watch'em. You'll see what's up." Only by this point, he's already applied the first incredient and is frying it up. Already, it's puffing into its tangled, fried-spaghetti-looking shape. And soon after comes a liberal dosage of powdered sugar. Fork, paper plate, napkins aplenty, and Drake offers the concoction over to Nadia.
Nadia Pym	"But they're all made from batter dropped into oil aren't they? The shape they form after doesn't really matter, it's the chemical make-up of the raw materials which really impacts the flavour and nutritional value..." Nadia explains matter-of-factly as she watches. "You should at least let me buy you one too. It only seems fair and I have plenty... well I have /some/ money." She digs into the 'cake'. "It could use a little something extra. Like the chocolate sauce churros sometimes come with."
Drake Riley	"Geeze, girl, you're overthinking it!," Drake chides with a laugh. "It just is what it is!" To the rest, he shakes his head. "I talked funnelcake up. It's only right that I get it for ya. You can get me, uh.. something.. from Russia. That isn't depressing." He squints a little, eyebrows raising. "No offense. I dunno what all you have out there. Or if any of it would even be here." A glance is shot back at the stall, then to her again. "Sometimes they have more stuff. This one doesn't."
Nadia Pym	"If I was overthinking it I'd be taking samples to do some tests on," Nadia assures with a nod of her head. "Which isn't a terrible idea now that I think about it." She tilts her head to one side. "Something nice from Russia.. I doubt there is anything at Coney Island. To be honest I don't know a lot about /nice/ Russian food. I grew up at a.. uhm.. boarding school. It didn't exactly provide very gourmet food." "I guess cavier or smoked salmon with blinis would be the fanciest thing I can think of. A little out of my price range though. I'm still deciding if I want to accept a job offer from someone over at Wayne Industries."
Drake Riley	"Over at Wayne Industries? Wait, how old are you? Are you doing like a Benjamin Button thing?," Drake asks. The look he's giving her now is distinctly critical, appraising her. She really does look about his age, if younger. No one younger than him is working for a tech company! Right? "I don't know what a blini is, so it's exotic enough for me. Pretty sure you're not gonna find any vendors for it, though, yeah." Beat. "Seriously, Wayne Industries?"
Nadia Pym	Nadia Pym tilts her head to one side and frowns. "Fifteen. It's not really that unusual. I /am/ a theoretical physicist after all..." There's no hint of a boast. "The only trouble is I don't have qualifications recognised in America. So I'd probably have to take an intern job until I could complete the relevant degrees. Shouldn't take me very long as I'm probably more qualified than anyone that'll be teaching me." "A blini is a little pancake thing. You put a little sour cream, maybe some chopped dill and then the salmon on top. It's a very good nibbley thing for a fancy party." She lowers her voice "I'm not sure it's a place I want to work though. I briefly met Damian wayne, I think he's the CEO right now, and he was rather rude. And drunk."
Drake Riley	Drake Riley doesn't look particularly sold on the blini. In a way, he's glad those are hard to come by in America. He'd hate to hurt her feelings. Salmon might be good, though. But fear not, the blini doesn't hold his attention for more than a second versus the rest of what she says. "Uh.. huh. Physicist," he repeats back to her, clear skepticism written in his voice. Either Russia needs to have higher standards, or this poor girl needs to learn what a video game is. He's not gonna taunt her over it, or make rude jokes, though. She seems too darn nice! But he does focus in on her conspiratorial whisper. "Sounds like someone like you could pick'n choose what she wants to do, as far as work goes. No need to settle, right?"
Nadia Pym	"I've had some of my work published in a journal if you want proof," Nadia offers, either a very bold bluff or a sign of her honesty. "You'd probably find it very boring though. Most people do.. Which is a shame but I understand why. It's not very accessable for people who haven't studied it." "Unfortunately I can't work /anywhere/ I want. There are some legal limitations and it's all very.. how do people say.. complicated."
Drake Riley	"Now, Nadia, that-... that is probably very true," Drake submits, starting off as though he were about to reprimand her. But alas, he probably /would/ find her work pretty boring! Science isn't his forte. But he can try to be supportive, even if he doesn't really get it. "If nothing else, you're in America; land of opportunity. If Wayne Industries can offer you something, I'm sure other places can, too. Heck, even if they pay you under the table or whatever."
Nadia Pym	Nadia Pym blinks. "Why would they keep money under a table..." she muses. "Anyway, it's been nice chatting with you Drake but I've got some calculations I need to get back to. I've got this idea about folded space which... Uhm yeah it's very complicated and I don't quite have all the specifics down yet. Sometimes I find taking a walk and buying junk food gets things going and I think all the sugars having the desired effect!"
Drake Riley	Drake Riley opens his mouth to correct her, only to pause. Nope. She can continue as is. It's kind of cute, the whole fish-out-of-water thing. "Eeyeah, I don't understand a bit of that. But hey, I'm happy I could help streamline this process a little!," he jokes. "And good luck with the calculations! Hope everything... adds up for ya!" Griiiin. Awful joke. He knows it's awful.