[b][color=blueviolet][center][h3]ȤЄƝƖ ƓƛƬƛƘƖ[/h3]
Location: Nowhere, USA  //  Interaction: [@BlackXIII], [@BenG85], [@Jasper19] (mention)[/center][/color][/b]

	Hearing Le Neckbeard's eloquent conversation with himself, Zeni turned back briefly to take a closer at him as she realized he was not, in fact, a bum.  Wait... this was what he looked like when he [i][u]did[/u][/i] have access to modern plumbing?  She practically choked on her coffee at the thought.

	Scenting the rather pungent aura of reefer hanging around Ozzie - about as subtle an aroma as a Tarantino directed flashback to the 1969 Woodstock festival - she relaxed, recognizing the telltale signs of a hardcore stoner.  Her cousin Christos had been like that, before her yiayia had shamed him so publicly he'd quit cold turkey and gotten a degree in Psychology, or was it Business?  Last she'd heard he'd worked his way into upper management in production and was the head of his local PTA's anti-drug campaign... her grandmama was scary like that sometimes.

	A motorcycle of indeterminate make rolled past, its out of state plates drawing her attention for a moment.  Realizing Ozzie had introduced himself, she hastily supplied a response - "Lovely to smel-[b]MEET[/b], you, lovely to meet you.  I really must get going."  Pausing to eye the unconscious Steve with the dubious sidelong glance of a native Chicagoan commuter debating whether to switch seats on the L to avoid the crazy, the grad student produced a rather large water bottle from her backpack.  Grinning, she poured some of the ice cold liquid onto the unconscious Steve's face to wake him, turning to face Ozzie after doing so.  

	"There!  Now you don't have to schlep him to the nearest alleyway to avoid oncoming foot traffic.  Cheers!"  Practically power walking over to Agent Brand, she took the proffered arm, pulling the man toward her yiayia's home in her haste to exit Stage Left.