It had been several days since Lenna had arrived in New York. Since then, she had gone through a lot and met several different people.

She’d been in a bar fight. Gone clothes shopping. Her apartment had been raided. She had lost all her clothes. Her and a boy had stolen cars and kissed. And many other things.

Lenna had fought people for food and shelter. Found food and shelter. Bought more clothes. Had dealt with people who had showed surprising kindness. And the other sort.

The list of people she had met included a Swiss Miss, a Cowboy, a Ninja, a paladin, a vampire, a werewolf, a dinosaur, and Megan. There were others, but that was a quick highlight reel.

The girl was doing okay. There had been some lifestyle changes, certainly, but she was living her own life. Making her own mistakes. Dealing with things. And eating a lot of street food.

Street food was an easy target. You could steal it if you were fast enough. You could also pay for it, and usually it was not so expensive. It even tasted somewhere in the realm of “like food”. It was okay, as long as you didn’t ask what it was made from.

Today, she was eating a hot dog. Dressed in blue jeans, a black leather jacket, black combat boots, and an orange and black striped t-shirt she’d acquired secondhand, she was almost warm enough. Her breath misted in front of her face. Lenna would need to invest in a scarf. Maybe an orange one?

The hot dog made things better, though. With pickle relish and onions and enough spicy mustard to kill a horse. In theory. She had even bought the damn thing.

Lenna finished putting it together by the area one put on condiments by the food stand. She took a big bite, and... most of the toppings slopped off the bun, onto the ground in front of her.

She cursed. Maybe she had piled it too high. At least she had not gotten any mustard on her— she had gotten mustard on her shirt. Lenna cursed some more.

Veronica idly wondered how long it would be until she got assigned to another school, again. Breaking out of this one was a little too easy, and it wasn’t exactly like her parents gave a damn if she wandered around the city at random. She was smarter than all of those dumb kids in her class anyway. Why should she be forced to sit through torture at the hands of awkward middle aged dudes when she could just read?

She’d been wandering around for what, a few hours now? As usual flirting with hypothermia, because who had time for more than 2 or 3 layers, really. And hunger was starting to set in. Veronica snickered as she walked past a teenager failing epicly to eat a hotdog. “Just buy two if you want that many onions.”

She stepped up and bought her own, before scanning around for a source of coffee, glancing back at the other teenager.

Onions. She could have as many onions as she so desired. It was not as if she were planning to kiss any one any time soon. Yet, still, the scathing comment made her momentarily self-conscious. The slop on her shirt did not help to improve her mood.

”One does not simply buy two hot dogs.” Lenna said, walking over to the girl. ”So tell me your methods. A professional baller such as yourself must have a secret strategy. It cannot be so simple as ‘use less’.”

Lenna had been around the city for several days, and had met many. This attempt at ‘street talk’ was a shabby attempt to better fit in. But with her slight Spanish accent that made her sound like English wasn’t her preferred language, and her strange aversion to contractions and her delivery... it just did not work very well at all.

Her dog was almost a blank slate, which she demonstrated by holding it before herself like a shield. Much of the toppings had been lost. Few remained. A little advice would much have been appreciated. And yes, much patheticness was to be had.

No, patheticness was not a word. Maybe it was in New Lenna City.

Veronica narrowed her eyes at the other girl. Was she being sarcastic? She actually couldn't tell. Well regardless, she'd recently lifted a good amount, and was feeling generous. Sometimes you had to take pity on crazy people, or homeless teens. It let you build up some good karma in the bank, so you could kick whoever you wanted, or pick pocket without penalty.

She didn't actually respond to the girl, just putting down some bills at the hot dog man. "Two with the works. Don't slop toppings everywhere, do NOT cover them completely in sauce, and take some rolls that aren't all crusty and hard. Some decent ones, from the back of the bag." She glared evils at the man, who simply shrugged and began fulfilling her order.

She gave a side ways glance at the girl while she waited, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. When they were done she snatched them away from the man without a thank you, but didn't take the change offered. He could keep it. It was whatever. She started walking away and held out the second hot dog to the girl.

"Throw the messed up one in the trash, take this one."

Lenna had said one simply does not buy two hot dogs. Then she simply went and bought two hot dogs!! That made Lenna a liar.

Her mouth stayed closed as the other girl ordered her hot dogs. Perhaps, they were for the girl herself. It sounded like she knew exactly what she desired, and was not afraid to demand it. Most likely, the dogs were for her. But no, she held one out for Lenna.

Throw food... in the trash? Part of her wished to deny this woman, to abjure her claim. It was not messed up. It was simply temporarily garbage.

Okay. It was permanently garbage. She would not argue. The dog sailed into the trash. Lenna took the offered hot dog with a restrained ”Thank you.”

Careful not to spill, Lenna took a bite of her dog. It was a much needed improvement over the last. Chewing, she nodded and mmm’d. Swallowed. Spoke.

”I am Lenna. Thank you again for the hot dog. It is good. Mine was trash... I just do not have much money to throw around building better hot dogs.”

It was tough to admit. But she momentarily shelved her pride.

Veronica wasn't really going out of her way to be nice to the other girl, it was more out of pity. She wasn't totally above throwing some change at a homeless person that wasn't smart enough too learn how to pick pocket. Some people were just born to live pathetic lives, and she would very very rarely indulge them, momentarily.

She shrugged, taking a bite out of her own piping hot dog and muttered "Whatever." Through a scolding mouthful.

Veronica audibly snorted. "Then you should make some money, or come across money." She took another bite and realised she'd probably not eaten for several hours. That was becoming a habit. Oops.

It wasn't like she had a body image problem or anything, she was just a busy woman and didn't always have the time to think of things like food. "Either way, you learn something every day. Veronica."

The girl’s casual attitude was one Lenna did not fully understand how to interpret. Was she dismissive because she did not wish to put Lenna out, or was she dismissive because she did not care if Lenna was thankful for something she had done? Lenna chose to withhold an interpretation until later. She chewed it over, as it were.

The snort when she went out of her way to make an admission of weakness helped her decide something. The girl was rude, and her earlier dismissal had been because she did not care if Lenna was thankful or not. This realization did not make lenna like or dislike the girl any more than she already did. It was simply filed away. ‘Rude girl. Bought me a hot dog.’ The world was full of rude people and one should not get upset if they happen not to like you. Her feelings were not hurt at all.

Make or steal money. Lenna did not immediately reply to this.

The phrasing when the girl gave her name made Lenna think the girl was referring to her as Veronica for a moment. ‘You learn something every day, Veronica.’ Odd. She opened her mouth to say ‘hey! My name is not Veronica. It is Lenna. I just told you it is Lenna.’ But, then she shut it. Of course, it was just a weird introduction. The girl probably had a lot of hot dog on her mind.

For the moment, she maintained politeness. It was the logical thing to do. Why act high and mighty when you aren’t? Why act tough and say things like ‘oh, of course! Steal sh*+ and get a job! My mistake!’ Or ‘I am homeless because government agents chased me out of my place. I robbed them, if that makes me sound any better. But their cash is limited and their credit cards got shut off after the first several days of spending sprees for Kyle Tannenbaum and Bob Mann,’ or even ‘I do not pick pockets or mug people. I loot bodies.’ That last one would have gotten some looks.

Polite talk is good decorum. It helps you avoid beginning fights. Which, unfortunately, reduces the amount of bodies that pile up. Sorry, Veronica. This is why I am broke.

She was no murderer. Not yet, at least. Even though it was what she had been trained for her entire life. She had not really given much thought to that situation. One would think a highly trained assassin might be a little more kill happy. But then, trained assassins do not get to go on dates and eat ice cream with cute boys.

”You are right.” Lenna said mildly, Spanish accent getting thicker as she spoke. ”Veronica. I am new to this city, though. I am not familiar with the types of work available to me. My last employer sort of died. As did everyone I know. I just sort of showed up here, actually. And no one prepared me to pick pockets or get jobs at Burger King. Which is kind of f*****ed up.”

You would think, with all the training she had ever received in her entire life, there would have been something there about a life with work outside of the assassination game. Some life skills lessons to help prepare a kid so they don’t wind up 16, with less life skills than some hot dog girl on the street. And what was that about her having wanted to remain civil, and be polite about the whole thing? Yeah. She felt a little heated about everything now. And it was only partly Veronica’s fault. Still, Lenna could dial it back a bit, she supposed.

She took a calming breath, and said ”Sorry. This has nothing to do with you. I just realized the people who raised me gave me zero life skills, and it made me mad. You do not have to care, of course. You are not some sort of psychologist. Just a mildly nice person on the street. Thank you again for the hot dog.” She held it up in a gesture. A ‘yes, this IS a hot dog. Look!’ Type of gesture.

Lenna took a bite of the hot dog, and contemplated just walking away from this entire conversation. Not all people are Thais. Not all people are Cowboys. You open up, you leave yourself exposed. She should be a bit more careful about where she extended trust. It does not always achieve positive results.

Veronica was a lot more of an observant person than most people would have pegged her for. She came off as abrasive and sometimes extremely impulsive, but she did actually pay attention to those around her quite closely. How did you know who was going to chase you down or take a swing when you swiped there wallet otherwise?

Lenna was definitely considering something. She was probably trying to gauge Veronica, or wondering if her hotdog was poisoned or something. People looked gift horses in the mouth far too often.

Or maybe she just found Veronica's attitude abrasive. She could get that. It was definitely a little rougher around the edges than say... Her sisters. Addy put on a mean face, but she was soft and squishy on the inside.

She tilted her head, genuine surprise on her face. It was a nice enough accent, but the actual words had been the shock there. "That does sound shitty."

Veronica shrugged lightly. "I don't necessarily care. People suck. It's a universal rule. But I am interested, you're more unique than I gave you credit for." She admitted unashamedly.

”I— thank you?” She’d been about to something else, but cut herself off, mid-sentence. How does one respond to the statement ‘you are more unique than I gave you credit for’?

People did suck. Some times, they were good. Her experience with people outside of her limited pool of people stretched about as far back as the last week or so... she had left the nest to attempt that assassination mission, after all. That had required dealing with people.

She mulled over her thoughts while eating her hot dog. She attempted to be more dainty, this time. To avoid further stains.

Her brow furrowed as she worked through various responses. She tossed the trash into the can, and used that second or so to finalize her reply.

”It has been a— trying week.” She said, careful with her tone and words. She frowned thoughtfully. ”I guess if it interests you, I could tell you some of my tale... as repayment, perhaps. For the hot dog. I promise you, it is more interesting still than what I have already said. And, there are werewolves.” She smiled as she said the last line. Just a bit.