Owner	Pose
Dragonfly	They say April showers bring May flowers. And it seems to be true because here, in Prospect Park flowers are beginning to bloom or at least bud. However this late in April you'd think there'd be some respite for the upcoming May!     The sky is slate grey. The air filled with that irritating kind of rain that's too much to ignore, but not enough to really want to hold up an umbrella for. At least it's a pretty warm rain; nobody will get chilled while out in it.     Nancy is out in the rain, sitting on a bench in her jeans, wearing a transparent plastic jacket over top to protect her from what little elements are streaming down from the sky. In her hands she has a bag with broken crackers which she's throwing at the ducks by the nearby pond. Her purse sits on the bench next to her, or, rather, it was sitting there until one of the neighbourhood street rats does a grab and run on it. Her voice calls out, "Hey! Give that back!"
Adrien Agreste	Adrien was settling into his new home, mostly. The penthouse was prefurnished, everything a young single man could want to occupy his time, alone and quiet. His old bedroom in Paris had been no different, though perhaps a bit more juvienial. All of this explains why Adrien Agreste was not in his penthousr, but rather out for a stroll in the park just as his poor luck wiuld have a purse snatcher run right into him, both sent tumbling to the puddle laddened sidewalk just as a woman's voice calls out. Adrien and the theif exchangr a look. The theif starts to scramblr up. Adrien reaches out to grab for the theif to hold him, but he misses and grabs ar rhe purse instead. well, that would work! A kick to send the theif further into his scamper, and Adrien backs away, purse in hand.
Dragonfly	Nancy, contrary to what you'd expect, didn't chase after the thief. She stood instead in a pose like ... she was planning on becoming a statue or something. Seeing Adrien, however, "bravely" tackle the thief (the accidental nature of things not being apparent from the distance), she stops her statue impression and instead runs up.     "Thanks a lot there, mister!" she says. "Are you alright? Here, let me help you dry off." A handkerchief is pulled out of her jeans pocket and she starts ineffectively trying to wipe off the dirt before it sets.     "Oh, that's not working!" she fumes. "It's too small."
Adrien Agreste	The theif, seeing his 'prey' running up and a pretty boy not ready to really back away, cutd and runs away. Addressed, Adrien looks up and smiles gently. He accepts the help up thoigh doesnt really pull on the woman. He just stops himself from running a rain puddle wet hand through his damp blond hair as he holds out the purse. "I'm fine, mercy mademoiselle," says the tall blond with a warm smile and a soft but noticeable french accent. A light chuckle, light as the warm spring rain, drifts from him a moment later. "Do not concern yourself, please. It's just clothes..." and if he's going to be honest, from last season's collection so....
Dragonfly	Nancy takes the purse gratefully, opening it to root around inside it. "I sometimes have a handtowel in here," she explains, not looking up. "But..." Now she looks up, shrugging apologetically. "...this would be one of the days I don't have that. Look, my place is just over there." She points out the entrance of the park. "I can at least get you a towel to dry off with ... Mr. ...?"     She sticks out a hand. "Nancy. Nancy Arazello."
Adrien Agreste	There's a moment where Adrien is stunned, flabbergasted, that Nancy doesn't even double take to look at him. So used to being immediately recognized, the Parisian model can't suptress the lopsided smirk at the taste of anonymity being in America affords. The smirk smooths over a heartbeat later. "Such bad luck," is murmured faintly as the grin slides away from rueful and bacj toward the warm picture perfect and cultivated smile he is so very good at. "Adrien Agreste. Enchante," repkies the frenchman, taking the hand to half nodbow over it. its not a full sweeping bow. its not a brisk american hand shake. its slight and subtle and charming in that european sort of way.
Dragonfly	As Nancy watches the handshake--the best way to describe how she's experiencing it--a commotion erupts behind her near the bench as ducks go practically insane.     "Dammit!" Nancy curses, as she looks around. "I left the crackers there. That was supposed to be for a week!" She grins at Adrien a little shamefacedly. "Yeah, I have no life."     She turns toward the park entrance. "I'm guessing," she says over her shoulder, "from the way you're speaking that you're not from around here. I'm afraid I'm very American, so I'm not sure where you're from. Welcome to the country, though; I hope that street rat doesn't colour your perception too much. Let's get you cleaned and dried off, shall we?"
Adrien Agreste	Startled by duck and woman outburst, Adrien looks over at thw fowls. A slight ripple of tension flickers past, there and gone in a brief momet. The model smile is back. "I can help you get more," he offers to thw sight of her shamwfaced little grin. "Mm? oh. oui. I am from Paris," says Adrien, drying hid hands on his desinger jeans before putting his hands in his pockets. He seems to roll his ribs to onw side, an unsettled little motion. "Nono. It doesn't. Paris has it's petty theft as well." Another shift. "Yes. Merci. Do you think we could stop at a store for some ....camembert?"
Dragonfly	"Camembert?" Nancy ponders, as they leave the park. "That's a cheese, right? Only cheeses I know of in this neighbourhood are Italian; it's more my style. There's that place over on 17th, though. It has a lot of imports. It'll probably have something like that."     Her eyes seem to spot the motion but leave it uncommented upon, just a quick glance of concern at Adrien's face, then continued conversation.     "But first," she decides, "we hit my place and I get you washed up and dried, OK?."     She pauses before one townhouse in a row of identical ones: a turretted afair with alternating hexagonal and round turrets; the entrance they're before is one of the round ones.     "Here we are," she says, fishing some keys out of her pocket. "Don't mind the floor; I have someone cleaning it daily, so it's not a big deal." She climbs the stairs and opens the door. "Bathroom's upstairs and to the left."
Adrien Agreste	An easy smile, gratitude in its depths, is given. It warms his green eyes as he nods. Nothing to be worried about, see? "Ah, oui. You are right. Merci. After we are all dry, we'll go out for some cheese," the model repeats, the words so smooth as he peers up at the home. Told not to mind the floor, Adrien pauses to parse that turn of phrase. He"s pretty sure she doesnt mean that the floor will bwgin to order him aboit and thus that he should then promptly ignore the floor. So, sge must mean he is not to pay attention to the floor, implying that it might be a bit... ah yes! someone to clean. The floor is dirty for her liking. Adriend smiles warmly, the expression more genuine in its warmth than previous expresaions. "Of course. Thank you again, Mademoiselle Arazello," he says as they climb the stairs to her apartment. His accent shifted slightly on her surname, closer toward practiced Italian than his native French. Once inside, and with her directions, Adrien excuses himself to her bathroom.
Dragonfly	It's a perfectly normal townhouse with spotless floors. There doesn't seem to be much of a reason to mind them. Except for the scorched bit on the tiles near the upstairs kitchen area, across from the bathroom. The bathroom is an ordinary bathroom, also spotless.     "Towels are in the cupboard just outside the bathroom," Nancy's voice crawls up the stairs behind him to guide him. "And there may be a T-shirt your size in there, perhaps a bit too large, mind, if you want to get out of the stained shirt."     There's a distant sound of a clacking keyboard, an old school thing with loud mechanical switches.
Adrien Agreste	Scorched bit. Odd. But the parisian makes no comment beyond a call of thanks over his shoulder. Safe in the bathroom, Adrien pulls open his over shirt for a small cat-like flying sprite to whizz out. Looking very unhappy, the spirit shakes itself, grumbling and whining as Adrien ahrugs out of his wet shirts, find a hair dryer, and turns it on. Double use: dry his clothes and cover the sound of him talking to his obnoxious kwami. "This is just grest! noe im mot only starving, and wet! Couldnt you have not played hero in your civilian clothes? Cats and water dont mix you know!" Plagg complains, voice more growlly than his dimunitive size would lead anyone to believe. "Because I could help that he ran into me." "Just dont forget my camembert." "I wont forget your stinky cheese if you keep your voice down." Plagg hrms, finds a habd towel, collects it in his tiny claws, and retrests to the top.of the towel cupboard to curl himself into it while tending to his wet fur. Adrien just rolls his eyes at the kwami's actions, turning his attention to the model trick of drying clothes with a hair dryer. He'll towel his pants shortly after that so when he comes back out a while later he is only slightly damp. he washed his face and hands and towrled his hair.
Dragonfly	As Adrien returns, Nancy is at a computer that looks like it ate Manhattan. This is no home rig. It's not even a gamer rig; it lacks all the flashy graphics stuff in favour of massive, very solid kit instead. Nancy looks up from it with a bright smile.     "Whole Foods has your camembert stuff," she says. "I've put an order in already; they'll have it set aside for me when we get there. How's the shirt holding out?"     She looks at the shirt (and when she thinks he's not watching at the man under the shirt) critically.     "OK, it looks like we dodged a bullet. It came out clean; doesn't look like any stains will set."     She slips on her shoes on the way to the door. "So to Whole Foods it is?"
Adrien Agreste	The computer is impressive, Adrien smiling. He kmows when he's being oogled. It doesnt bother him, it seems. He just nods, follows Nancy to the door to hold it for her. "Yes. Whole Foods." he agrees and off they go, to get camembert.