Owner	Pose
Nadia Pym	It started out with a chance meeting. With Nadia getting herself recruited into the Titans and Ms America Chavez having her own reasons for visiting the Tower the chances of the two running into each other was moderately high. A little idle conversion in which Nadia reveals she's an expert in biology and exotic physics. While America is both organic and punches holes in reality. Which is both immensely fascinating to Nadia and likely in America having to smile & nod at a lot of technobabble unrelated to punching things. Still there was a mutual benefit in this chance meeting. Nadia is uniquely qualified to give America scientific proof she's both in excellent shape for being a superhero and better still that her punching reality isn't going to suddenly end all of time & space. Which is also nice for her peace of mind if she's ever wondered about such things. While Nadia gets to put on her best lab coat and do science. After a little preliminary scanning to ensure Pym particles aren't dangerous to Utopians they've both shrunk down to Nadia's personal lab. Inside a pink crystal Disney princess castle that seemingly hangs in the avoid of space between atoms. It's an impossible place, filled with wonders, but the shrinking process does tend to feel a little like a drug trip the first few times. The GIRL herself is dressed in smart black shoes with shiny buckles, a red-brown Summer dress, and her aforementioned best lab coat (with Perspex safety glasses tucked in the pocket). Hair chestnut hair held back by a hairband and holding a clipboard to make things official!
America Chavez	If there's one thing America Chavez is consistent about, it's keeping things close to the vest. She's come to accept, however, that some things gradually reveal themselves over time: America's been a semi-frequent visitor to this reality for years now, enough to consider it as much a home away from home as she can consider anything. Some things just get out during that time. Like the fact that she can punch holes in spacetime. That one's pretty hard to hide after a while. The point is, while America runs into Nadia while shamelessly mooching off Raven for a place to crash for a few days. One thing leads to another, and America a) endures a flood of technobabble with a slowly arching eyebrow, and b) agreeing to what more or less amounts to a physical. Normally, America would reject the idea that she needs any sort of outside help, including medical, but... to be honest, she -could- use someone uniquely qualified to deal with her unique physiology in the times she might actually need it. And besides: Nadia is cute. These are the two primary reasons that America shows up to her appointment only slightly late ("Wendigo army; don't ask.") dressed in her traditional, casual attire. As usual, the theme remains the red, white and blue: a sleeveless crop top striped red and white that leaves her midsection exposed, an unzipped blue jacket with a white star emblazoned across the front, a pair of black short-shorts buttoned with gold buttons along its sides, and - of course - a pair of star-spangled sneakers. Her long, curly hair remains unbound, her traditional hoop earrings jostling lightly as they take their first, impossible shrinking trip towards an entire space dwelling between atoms. And America... takes it all in remarkable stride as she arrives at Nadia's subspace lab. It's a calm, dark brown gaze that sweeps her surroundings, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket as she takes a slow turn to absorb everything. The architecture, the fantastic, pink wonderment of it... it reminds her, distantly, of home. Despite herself, America smiles a little smile. "Nice digs," she comments to Nadia, gaze sliding over to the other woman with lifted brows. "You come up with all this yourself?"
Nadia Pym	"Oh this? Yes I reverse engineered how Pym particles work in secret. But I needed a secure location from which to plot my escape from the Red Room," Nadia says with the casual modesty of someone who has created a seemingly impossible place. "And then when it was time to escape. I took pretty much all their research archives so they couldn't use any of my work against me." She grins a little. Less from pride at her achievements and more from having people compliment her work. She leads America along the path, past flowers unique to the microverse, and into her lab. Because of course she can get into the lab from the garden! It's the most important room in the building and thus all routes lead to the lab. It's suitably filled with weird and wonderful super science tech. A mixture of old Soviet era gadgets that've been improved by hand so much they perform totally different functions from their original intent. Right through to state of the art gear purchased during her time in America. The country. There's no tiny stores in Ms America that she's aware of. "I do wish I'd been able to rescue more of the students but I just couldn't risk discovery," she sighs. "But uh. That's not really important and some day I will go back to save everyone." She forces a grin. "Anyway I figure I should start with some discussion about what these tests will involve. Everything we talk about and all the specific results will be confidential unless you consent to my sharing them. Any reports I produce will be very general. I'll certify you're healthy for combat but not any personal info that is not relevant. And I can share a list of all the data I want to capture before hand and we can talk through it all. So you'll know what to expect and any concerns can be addressed!"
America Chavez	America, while pretty tall, does not contain a tiny civilization inside of her. Not even a Ms. America mini-franchise! Making her way through the gardens, America listens even as she takes in the exotic flora of this tiny universe. One hand lifting to rustle through layers of curly, dark brown hair, she leans in to take in the scent of one of those budding, bizarre flowers as Nadia speaks. "Not bad," America remarks. About the flowers? Or how Nadia put all this together in secret? Or how she stuck it to her captors? Probably all of the above. She makes her way into the lab proper, absorbing the super science with the look of someone -used- to it, if not necessarily... fluent in it. It's a very impressive room of doodads and goobers that America finds herself in, but her interest in the actual tech is transient at best. She gives it all a cursory glance -- but that intense, dark brown gaze of hers inevitably falls on Nadia again as the girl forces herself to grin. America considers her for a few seconds of silence. Then: "Can't save fuck-all if you can't save yourself," she says, as if in roundabout understanding. "You'll get 'em. Believe." The rest America listens to as she folds her arms under her chest. All the conditions and assurances are met with an easy, casual neutrality; America cocks her head to the right, curly tresses bouncing against her shoulder as she considers. "Alright," she finally says. "That's all fine. So everything that happens here, stays in here. Yeah? We keep it like that, and we'll be good." Elbow cradled against her opposing palm, America lifts one hand, wheeling it around as if to indicate the lab. "So how're you gonna be poking and prodding me today, chica?"
Nadia Pym	While a doctor typically operates from a fairly mundane setting intent on putting the patient at ease it's clear this Lab is designed to entertain and impress. It's somewhere Nadia spends a lot of time and thus the environment is set up for peak comfort levels. Plus furniture that's comfortable to lounge around on and various media for entertainment. Assuming you find physics journals entertaining. She grins and nods, she sure will get them! Nothing stops the Unstoppable Wasp. "Well before the poking and prodding," she starts. "I'd like to ask a few basic questions. Any family history of medical conditions you're aware of? Been anywhere weird or exotic that might have had diseases of plagues?" She doesn't explicitly add or wendigos but it's certainly implied. "Anything you're allergic to? Or past injuries I should be aware of? Like perhaps a pin in a bone?" She holds out the clipboard. "I have a list of every test and what it entails on here. If you'd like to skim through them?"
America Chavez	Questions come. America's hand flops back against her opposing forearm as Nadia begins to run through the preliminary gamut of information; as she does, the Utopian considers her newfound physician-slash-super-scientist with a curious eye. "No family history," she begins easily, as she starts to move with a calm step. "Never really had any of those kinds of problems in my family." Anywhere weird or exotic? "A few," is her vague answer. "Most of 'em wouldn't survive a cross-dimensional trip or anything. A couple cannibal plagues. A wild Joker venom strain here and there. A zombie apocalypse or two. That kind of thing." She says this with such flat matter-of-factness that makes one wonder if she's just teasing or if she's being all too serious. But really -- Wendigos are no joking matter. By the time she's finished answering that question, though? America is casually pushing into Nadia's personal space, settling in beside her as she leans forward to take hold of the clipboard in Nadia's hand to tilt it her way to look over the contents clipped to it. And as she skims, she continues to answer: "No allergies. Plenty of injuries but nothing that sticks." Dark brown eyes flick Nadia's way. "Everything's where it should be."