Owner	Pose
America Chavez	Getting used to a new city always takes a lot of legwork. Exploration, getting to know your neighbors, the pulse of the community. Whatever. The same principles apply when you're in a new universe, too -- just on a much grander, impossible scale. For America Chavez, at least, it really is that simple. The sort of things she's likely been doing to acclimate herself to this new world are probably mind-boggling and insane from most perspectives besides her own. It's all just art of the work in the end, relearning all the little nuances of another new world.     Today, though? Today, she just wants a burger.     That's why she finds herself at the Big Belly Burger in LexCorp Tower, at least. Or, one of the reasons. A break is good -- but she also has some side work to do, too. Standing in line, dressed down in a black, short-sleeved bolero jacket, blue babydoll t-shirt with a white star emblazoned on the front, white shorts and a ball cap with the icon of Captain America's original shield emblazoned on the front affixed over the braided twintails her hair has been done up in, the young woman is currently flipping through the browser of her StarkPhone, a more recent acquisition, trying to look up information on the recent rashes of gang activity in Gotham and otherwise. Her brows furrowed, she seems concentrated on that ask, such that she doesn't even seem to notice when her turn is up in line until the man at the counter clears his throat.     "Huh?" utters Chavez, brown eyes tilting up. "... Right. Yeah. Chocolate milkshake and a cheeseburger, chico."     "Do you mean our Cheesemeister Deluxe?" The question just prompts a long, silent stare from America, one brow lifted up with quiet intensity as if to ask, 'Seriously?' "Err. Right. Cheeseburger and a milkshake!"     And with that, she resumes her browsing.
Kate Bishop	"She wants onion rings too." comes a voice from just behind America. "And I want the fish sandwich combo, with the fried pickles instead of fries." and she reaches past the taller woman to slap down a $20. She steps back to grin at America, crossing her arms in front of her while she waits. "Might want to step over there a second... the people in line behind you... " and she jerks a thumb back over her shoulder. "... are going to _murder_ you if you don't." and she looks back. "Impatient... just keep your pants on. Geez."
America Chavez	Hearing that voice ordering for her, America squeezes her eyes shut in a brief blink of confusion. She looks behind her towards Kate, and then back towards the offered $20 for the meal -- and then back to Kate. Her brows lift, but rather than say anything about the abruptness of it all, she seems to take the whole thing in remarkable stride, looking past Kate towards the people in line with an almost assessing stare.     "... I could take 'em," she decides, and it's stated so flatly it might be hard to tell whether she means it as a joke or not. The fact that she slowly slides to the side indicates the former (hopefully) as the young woman leans her back into the counter, thumbs hooking into the pockets of her shorts as she turns her attentions back to Kate with lifted brows. "I want the onion rings too, huh?" she asks, the vaguest hint of amusement in her wry tone and the small tug of a smile. "That your professional opinion, chica?"
Kate Bishop	Kate nods sagely. She's dressed in a pair of loose faded jeans and a babydoll that reads "I AM NOT DAREDEVIL". Her purple-lensed sunglasses are pushed up on her head. " You do. the cheese curds are good too, but you don't look like a cheese curd kind of girl."     She gets her change back and stuffs it carelessly into a hip pocket. "Which reminds me. 'chica'? I just save your life from this ravenous horde and I'm just a 'girl'? Not even 'senorita'? Don't I look dainty enough to be a senorita?" and she laughs.
America Chavez	"Maybe," is America's first response to Kate's assessment. She gives a quick look back down at her phone and the article her browser is currently on before she just turns the thing off for now, returning her attention back to Kate as she slides it back into her pocket. "Then again, you didn't really seem like the fried pickle kinda girl to me, so who knows?"     Still, as their food comes, and Kate protests, she manages to wrest a brief, amused snort from America's lips. She plucks up her tray, and then Kate's, offering no answer until the exact moment she walks past the other girl, both trays in hand. "You look like a princess, princess," she finally says, looking back at Kate with the brief flash of a grin. "So... thanks for the food, princess." And with that, she continues to walk, with both trays, as if intent to take them both -- at least, until she nods her head in a beckoning gesture. "C'mon. Pretty nice seat over here."
Kate Bishop	"Hey!" Kate protests further but follows along. "Fried pickles are good, especially with a beer." She puts her hands on her hips as she goes. "Princess? Hmmph. Oh! I met a princess once. She was pretty nice." A grin for America. "I'm Kate. Kate Bishop."
America Chavez	Finding a table closer towards the entrance of the restaurant, America nonchalantly sets down both trays as if oblivious to Kate's protests behind her. She slides out a chair for Kate, gesturing towards it with an almost teasingly polite 'after you' posture before she drags out her own seat to flop into with a lazy sense of ease.     "Not really helping the princess look, princess," she notes after Kate's story, tone neutral and brows lifting in unison as she takes out those onion rings. Still, she follows it up with a slightly curious, "Which one?" before she plops one of those fried rings into her mouth to chew upon idly. "America Chavez," she greets afterwards. "You usually pay for someone's meal, Kate? -- Huh." She blinks. Looks down at her onion rings.     "... These are good. Damn."
Kate Bishop	Kate sits down in the seat America offers. "Well, alright. I _guess_ I can take it as a compliment and not a totally sarcastic jab at my socio-economic status." she says, with a grin.     "Told you." and she makes a motion with her hands. "I TOLD you. In your face, french fries!" she exclaims, then immediately sobers. "The princess I met? Donna Troy, the sister of Diana the princess of Themyscira... that Amazon island place?" She shrugs at the question of buying the food. "I couldn't stand to see a damsel in distress. Those wolves would have torn you apart, _chica_."
America Chavez	With that grin, America tilts her head to the side. She gestures, briefly, shaking one of her onion rings in Kate's direction. "Good," she says of Kate's declaration, and there's that small spark of amusement in her eyes.     At which point she immediately eats that onion ring, apparently a pretty big fan already. Chewing on that breaded onion, she crosses her right leg over the left, muted surprise flickering over her features. "Yeah? The Amazons? Seriously?" she wonders aloud. "Never met 'em," here, at least, so it's true enough. "You must be a pretty big deal, huh?"     Those last words, though -- those inspire a lazy, amused smirk to etch itself on America's lips. She plucks up that milkshake, lifting it almost in a toast to the woman sitting across from her. "Guess I owe you my life now. You're my god damn princess charming, -princess-," she echoes back, that smirk just barely threatening to bloom into a grin.
Kate Bishop	Kate wrinkles her nose. "'Princess Charming', huh? Yeah, I'm a big damn hero, aren't I?" she asks. "But no... I was just lucky. I don't know..." and Kate reaches over to take up her cup and return the toast, trying to tap her cup to America's. She leans in a little closer. "I think she likes me, actually." and then she straightens again. "It's a little big odd for me. I don't know what to do, actually." She fiddles with the wrapping on her sandwich a moment, thinking. "Hmm. Pickle?" she offers, pushing the little basket of fried dill chips a bit towards the other girl.
America Chavez	Tapping the tip of her drink against Kate's, America draws it back towards her, snagging the straw to sip on that sweet dairy goodness as she listens to Kate speak. Her expression stays level throughout that little confession, dark eyes on the other girl as she straightens. "Dunno about that," she says at first, to Kate's declaration on luck. Her head tilts, watching Kate with a cool, considerate air for just a moment before she asks, simply, "Do you like her?"     The question lingers, at least until Kate slides that basket her way. America looks down only for a second before she responds by grabbing one of those fried onion rings of hers and offering it out to Kate, dangled upon the pad of her index finger. "Sure. Trade you," she declares, only taking one of those pickles once the deal is made.
Kate Bishop	Kate accepts the crispy battered ring. "Don't mind if I do." and she has a bite of it. "Still good. They do something to the batter, I think... might be crack they put in it."     She rubs her forehead as she considers the question. "I don't know. I.. well, maybe I kinda do? I don't know. She's pretty and a princess and all, but... she's being maybe a little pushy." then she shrugs. "Or maybe I'm minsunderstanding? Maybe Amazons are just really friendly and affectionate? Maybe I'm misinterpeting that as some other kind of interest?"
America Chavez	Scooping up one of those pickle slices, America crunches into it, chewing on the fried food considerately. "Good shit," she decides, looking back Kate's way to offer a complimentary, "You know your junk food," a pause settles in here, just long enough to underscore how dryly she utters her next words. "Or your crack."     Swiping her cheeseburger, America leans back into her seat as Kate works through all the various angles of her potential relationship dilemma. Throughout the whole thing, the girl just nonchalantly bites off a chunk of that cheeseburger, chewing at it almost blandly as she focuses her dark eyes on the woman across from her. "Princess," she begins with a swallow. "You overthink this crap way too much. Most people? Not that subtle. I bet she's into you. You like her, ask her out. Have a good time. Whatever. If she's a princess or not, doesn't really matter. Think she's too pushy..." America's shoulders lift. "Don't go for it." And with that blunt advice, America decides she's talked too much in one sitting, and instead taking another bite of her cheeseburger and appending a simple, "Doubt someone like you'd be hard up for options," one she's finished it.
Kate Bishop	"Pottymouth. Don't make me wash it out with soap, young lady." Kate scolds with a grin. She takes the cue and unwraps her own fish sandwich. She peels off the top bun and peeks under. "I should've asked for no cheese. Oh well." bun back on and she half-wraps it up again to keep the mess to a minimum.     "I don't know. She's nice to be around, I guess... but she's like a real princess. I'm just so in awe that I probably would never be comfortable around her, not really. I mean, she looks _just like_ Diana, except Donna is left-handed." she shrugs again and has a bite of her sandwich. "...'sides..." she says through a small muthfull of food. "... she'd break me in half. She's like super-strong or something." She swallows and swipes at her mouth with a napkin. "I don't really have time to... yeah, well, no. My love life is one huge disaster after another. I'm not even 21 yet, so I can't go hang at clubs and drink and I'm too old for the college bars, mostly. And... I have a lot of stuff on my plate."
America Chavez	Incredulity etches itself across America Chavez's otherwise languid features at Kate's chiding words. She just stares, a sort of 'seriously what did you even just say' kind of stare -- before she just snorts once and shakes her head. "Yeah. I'll work on that, mom," she declares noncommittally, with an understated and deadpan amusement.     Dark eyes turn down towards that fish sandwich for the briefest moments as Kate speaks, head cocked to the right. "Oughta take it back," she asides, as straightforward as can be, before she tears off another chunk of her sandwich. "Trust me, being a princess doesn't mean much." Sipping her milkshake, the young woman's brows furrow, a small note of subtle amusement flickering past her features as if humoring some private joke when Kate mentions super strength. "Sounds like she could show you a good time if she knew how to use it," she notes in that same kind of conversational tone like she was just talking about the weather. She leans forward, propping her cheek upon her open palm as she peers at Kate. "Then don't worry about it. She's busy, you're busy. She's important, probably, I bet your all your crap is important too, right?" She gestures, vaguely, with her free hand. "Life's one huge disaster after another, princess. Seems like you've got a pretty good deal here. Might as well try to enjoy it while you can."
Kate Bishop	"Oh, I know that I'm lucky." Kate says. "I try to pay it back. I do a lot of charity work, my dad gives a lot of money to causes... sometimes he doesn't even realize that he's giving a lot of money to causes, especially when I don't tell him." She takes up her cup and has a drink. "I try to help out on the street."     "So, I don't know, I _try_. It's not like I sit around all day and eat cake." A thought comes into her mind and she reaches down to hike up her top a little... not enough to be scandalous, just a little midriff shown off. She pokes her stomach. "See? No muffin anywhere." There are little scars, though - an old puckered puncture wound, healed cuts, something that might have been a knife slash at some point. "She's a superhero too... she's a Titan. I can't compete with that. I don't _want_ to compete with that. How selfish would it be to take her away from helping do whatever they do just so I could have cuddle-time?" and she waves a hand. "I guess I need to figure out how to tell her."     Another pickle chip. "What about you? Let me guess..." and she looks America over carefully. "You're probably dating... Superboy?"
America Chavez	"Here I had you pegged for a trust fund baby," is America's first response to Kate's words, the slight uptick of her brows the main indication her words are intended more towards light ribbing than anything approaching insult. "Hey. Do what you can, yeah? And if things are peachy where you are..." Her shoulders roll in an ineffably composed shrug as she curls fingers around the condensation-covered cup of her drink. "... do what you can where you need to."     And so, she just takes a long sip of her milkshake as Kate explains herself. Dark eyes look down towards Kate's toned stomach as she shows it off, that stare drifting from scar to scar with an experienced eye more than anything else. "Yep. Fit as a fiddle," she agrees after a moment, that intense little gaze lifting back up to the socialite curiously. "Got some licks in there though, huh?"     The implied explanation is met well in stride, though, as Kate explains about Donna. That much, at least, America doesn't have an answer for -- or maybe not anything that she thinks would be comforting or, perhaps, what Kate needs to hear, considering the relative silence that follows after. Her only advice comes as she presses her index finger into her straw, pointing it Kate's way. "Best to treat it like a band-aid. Right off. Whatever you're gonna tell her, just tell her. Wasting time's just gonna make it harder either way."     With that, she sets down her drink; arms stretching over her head, she locks them at the back of her hair, leaning into her eat a little bit more as she just arches one brow at Kate's guess. "Seriously?" she asks after a moment. "I look like the Superboy type to you?" A second passes; she shakes her head simply. "Nah; not really the team I bat for. Not really seeing anyone anyway -- kinda new here, and I got work to do anyway." 'Kind of new' to where, she doesn't really deign to say. Instead, she just peers at Kate curiously. "You do work on the street, yeah? You hear about this gang stuff going on?"
Kate Bishop	Kate pulls her top fown a little more firmly as America references her less-than-perfect skin, her scars. "Like I said... I try." She has another bite of her sandwich and works on that a moment. "Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to question your se... I guess it's just a default assumption. I'm sorry." she says by way of apology. "Sure, why not? You're a big girl..." and then her eyes grow wide. "... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean you're _big_ big, just, not small. 'Healthy'? she adds quickly, trying to scramble around for a way to not totally insult the new girl.     "The gangs? Like, the ninjas and the yakuza in Gotham, or the ones digging holes in warehouses with giant melty hole-making guns?"
America Chavez	As Kate stumbles through her words, scrambles for apologies with those big eyes, America just watches for a time. That silence could be damning for all the way the girl carries herself with that distant kind of air. It's about when Kate starts talking about the Latina's potential girth that America just starts to lean forward.     And it's when Kate makes that last, desperate amendment that she gets an onion ring lightly prodding her in the forehead.     "Princess," America begins, and then pauses. "Kate. You've got a good heart, and you bought me food. We're good." And with that, she just offers that onion ring up to Kate like it was some kind of olive branch. Her brows twinge upward in unison.     "Coulda gone with a more flattering save than 'healthy' though. You know that, right?"     That last little ribbing delivered, she'll lean back once more, grabbing some napkins to start wiping the grease from her fingers. "Won't even mention your muffin top," she asides, with the hint of a smirk, before the other girl's question. "Was thinking mainly the melty hole-making guns, but sure, whichever you got info on."
Kate Bishop	"Gimme that." Kate says, taking the onion ring and devouring it hangrily. "Look, leave me alone. You're distracting me." she says with the quirk of a grin at the corner of her mouth.     "Anyway, yeah... somebody has some kind of something that makes holes..." and she holds out her arms to illustrate how big. "...melted through dirt and rock and concrete. I can't even guess how they did it. I guess with a giant blow-dryer or something." but she's joking about that. "No bodies, no gunfire, no blood. Gangs and their weapons were just _gone_. So weird." Of course, these are things that noone except the police... or a vigilante who had been on site... could know.
America Chavez	Her food largely finished, America rests her elbows on the back of her chair, sucking down the rest of her drink with the faint sputter of sucking air as she hits empty. "Just a thing with us big girls," she retorts wryly to Kate's grinning protest. "You get used to it."     But her expression sobers towards something more pensive as Kate explains what she knows. Setting her emptied milkshake aside, she scoffs a single, good-natured scoff at Kate's joke -- but her thoughts seem to be elsewhere. "One hell of a blow-dryer," she mutters, bringing a hand up to the brim of her cap to tug it down ever-so-slightly. "No bodies, no gunfire. Just makes me think shit's real bad." She considers a moment, before she peers at Kate with that piercing stare of hers.     "But you know where I gotta go if I wanna check it out, yeah?" She doesn't come out and say it in public - America's nothing if not discrete - but there's only one way she can think of for Kate to have information like this.
Kate Bishop	"I don't know that there's much to see, really." Kate says. "The police've been all over the place, or so I assume. Though in Gotham, who knows? I don't think whoever these guys are have anyone in blue on their payroll yet." the sandwich is done. "I don't want you to get yourself in trouble, though. they could go back at any time... though to tell you the truth it doesn't seem like they would."
America Chavez	"Trouble's kinda what I do," America says simply. "Like you. Right?" As she speaks, she starts to gather her empty wrappers and containers -- and does the same for Kate's, as well. "Easier for me if they did show up. Makes things a whole hell of a lot simpler." She doesn't seem especially concerned, her tone the kind of a person discussing a day job they've been doing for years when they've discovered a way to boil it down to its most efficient, most easily-digestible methods. "But..."     She stands. And as she does, she stuffs a hand into her shorts pocket, fishing out her phone. She gestures for Kate to do the same. "Here. My number," she offers. "You find anything out, give me a call, yeah? I'll get your back. Any news, tips. Whatever." Pocketing her phone again, she starts to pick up those accumulated wrappers, pausing to glance Kate's way. "You just wanna talk, or something..." she says, with the hint of a smile, "... wouldn't really bitch about you calling me for that, either."
Kate Bishop	Kate eagerly puts the information in her phone and provides the same for America. She stands as well, once 'meri takes the trays. "I could've... hey, thanks."     She smiles a bit more as America offers to just talk sometime. "I will, yeah... I mean, if I hear anything. Yeah. Any news, you'll be the first to know."
America Chavez	"Don't mention it," is that casual response to Kate's gratitude as America makes her way to dump that trash. Trays set above the garbage, she wipes her hands, stuffs them into the back pockets of her shorts, and casts a glance the other girl's way.     "Good," she says, the hint of gratitude in her tone. And, with the lazy stretch of her legs, she starts to make her way out. "Watch your back out there," she offers in parting. "And don't stress -- I'm sure you'll find the perfect person to demand your cuddle-times from sooner or later, princess."     And, casting a look over her shoulder that veers towards deliberately teasing, she grins one last, small grin and starts to make her way out of the Big Belly Burger. "Thanks for the onion rings, princess. See you soon."