4726/Get Cultured

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Get Cultured
Date of Scene: 14 January 2021
Location: Chinatown
Synopsis: No description
Cast of Characters: Drake Riley, Heather Danielson

Drake Riley has posed:
Drake Riley is getting used to trying to live a civilian life without the expectation to go to school on weekdays. It's been almost jarring, knowing people right about his age still have to undergo that dredgery; jarring, but exciting. Like breaking a rule without actually breaking it. It's not the same rush as he used to get doing miscreant shenanigans, but it's a rush that won't land him in jail or outcast a second time. He'll take it! But what's a guy to do with this free time?

This Thursday afternoon sees Drake milling the streets of New York again, attempting to track down someone he'd met during his homeless tenure; someone like him. Someone who could probably use a hand. But much like it's been for weeks now, he's found nothing in the usual haunts, and no leads to work with. His wanderings have lead him to Chinatown of downtown Manhattan, weaving cleanly between pedestrian bodies as he makes his way through the crowded street. He never really frequented areas like this before, and this is basically why - it's a confusion jumble of physical mass and languages he doesn't speak. But he's finally found some respite in front of what appears to be a food stand, with the picture of a chicken posted prominently on its front.

After a moment's study, he looks to the weathered Chinese man and nods. "I'll have that." Food sounds good. Why not, right? He points indicatively at the chicken on the sign.

The man smiles brightly in response, dips down briefly, and reappears with a live chicken and butcher knife.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on!," panics Drake, arms waving. "Don't do that!"

The man gives him a confused look.

"I meant chicken- like, cooked, you know?"

The man seems to take an understanding, nods, and promptly prepares the knife to behead the bird. Drake panics again. "Stop that!" The man hesitates, perplexed.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    As a girl who grew up in a small country-ish town in the middle of the Midwest, Heather isn't exactly grossed out by what is done to provide meat for the masses. She was just on her phone, off to one side. She was speaking with her agent... and vehemently objecting to the ideas that he had. He had just agreed on her behalf, for her to make an appearance as a cameo, for a brief shot that would give her far more... *ahem* exposure, than she is comfortable with. She insisted, "Underwear is fine. Topless is not. Get that in and I'll -consider- it." before she hung up.
    That finished, she stepped out of the small alley she ducked into in order to take her call. But she sees the old man and the chicken, and hears the young man's comment. "Where do you think cooked chicken comes from?" she asks aloud as she approaches, a smile on her face. She doesn't speak Chinese (Mandarin -or- Cantonese), but she understands that cultural differences can be jarring. "Excuse me sir. I think the gentleman was hoping for something that has already been killed and cooked. Do you have anything like -that-?" she asks.

Drake Riley has posed:
"Somewhere well out of sight," Drake responds as he starts to turn. There's a pause as he studies the girl in street clothes; she looks familiar. He can't place it just yet, but she's getting a lingering look.

As for the poor Chinese man, her words appear to have reached him. He purses his lips with a sagely nod, and then promptly readies the knife again. There's a significant chance that he does not speak English.

The motion pulls Drake from his study of the blonde to panic a third time. "Crap, wait!"

The knife is paused, and the vendor sighs impatiently. The chicken *bok*s, nonplussed.

With one hand raised to try to bide time with the knife-wielding salesman, Drake looks aside to the girl again. "Do you speak Chinese, like, at all? Even a little?"

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Shaking her head, Heather shrugs her shoulders, "I only speak English and bad English." she says in her Midwest accent. "I mean I can say hello, but that's about it." she says before she smiles to the old man. She nods her head and gestures to the chicken.
    Then she says, "Why don't you and I grab a beverage while he prepares the chicken, huh?" she asks, gesturing to the small tea stand one door down. Her whole plan is to distract the kid rather than make things difficult for the old man.

Drake Riley has posed:
The non-English-speaking man tries to figure out what's happening. He's getting smiles from one of them, and vehement refusals from the other. And now, it seems that the teens might be leaving? Curious! Why ask for a chicken if they didn't want a chicken?

Drake, meanwhile, is not comforted by this compromise. He looked at the bird! They made eye contact! He doesn't want it dead! On the other hand, the girl inviting him away is strikingly pretty. And if she knows a place to get drinks, that's a plus. Beats banking around in this human pinball machine of a market.

"Alright. Lead the way." Drake intends to follow her a step behind, specifically to spare a glower back at the vendor. He points at his eyes, then the vendor. Squint!

The vendor blinks, looks at the chicken, shrugs, and makes his best guess: he plops the chicken back into its cage beneath the stand.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Well, that was -not- the plan, but Heather isn't going to argue with it. "Here. Let me buy you a cup of tea." she says before stepping up to the vendor and holding up two fingers. "Two teas please." she offers as she reaches into a pocket and plucks a ten dollar bill out to lay out to pay for the order.
    Once she does that, she turns to face the guy. "So. you wanted chicken, and the old man was trying to give you the freshest chicken in town. He was doing the best he knew how. I only hope he doesn't feel offended. Odds are he's used to dealing with us dumb Americans on a daily basis eh?"
    But she grins and offers a hand, "I'm Heather." she adds.