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Mali loved the castle kitchen. It was big enough to move around in, had all the pans she might need, and a commercial grade dishwasher. True, she had to go perusing various Asian markets to get the supplies she liked, but that was fine. Nobody minded if she added a little spice to the pantries. Her mis en place was already in place. Pans, pots, spices, herbs and knives worthy of a chef. So there she was, rocking to the music in her headphones while her knife slid effortlessly through the vegetables. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with a rock band logo on it, swaying to the beat. Tofu pad thai, with varying levels of heat. She herself could handle a lot, others not so much. She had bowls set aside and the best rice noodles she could find. She mused, more than once, that if she hadn't been a superhero, she likely would have been a chef. Not that she was as good as a chef, just that she had the passion and drive to become one. She sure hoped people liked dinner, she was told they'd have guests.

Monday, July 15, 8:32am Carrie yawned as she walked into the park clad in track pants, and a light grey t-shirt. She pulled a headband out from her purse and put it in place as she got her headphones out and turned on some music. It was a nice morning, or at the very least, cool. It'd get way hotter in the day, she'd be dodging going back to the Fens which without the rest of the city's much more punctual clean up for the tourist city reeked in the summer heat with the accumulation of trash. She could probably go gathering it, but in what? Her car just wasn't big enough, and she really didn't want the smell sinking into it's apostalry. It was this thought track that went through her head, as she hummed with the music from the cheap headphones over her ears that was occupying her as she stretched out her tendons that concerned her as a youngish looking woman slipped behind her on the bench. She was to whistling the chorus when that woman made it a few paces away from the bench rather nonchalently, and halfway through the song when she suddenly turned her head and spotted said woman making off her with purse. "Hey!" The young woman bolted from the spot and Carrie made after her like a rabbit. A rather slow rabbit really, Carrie wasn't a speed runner, and that woman had much longer younger legs. Carrie was at least twenty feet away when the woman rounded around the building that had the rest rooms, and by the time she got there the young woman was gone, Carrie kept running and nearly passed an older woman walking the opposite direction on the path. Something about this woman made her give pause. She turned on her heel and looked at her, there was something off here. It took her about thirty seconds to figure out what it was, the beading on the handbag, was custom, made with delicate fingers, who spent hours getting the combination right and the button that was used as the latch were very large for a handbag, giving it a cute asethic that made her glad she had used the leftover ones from her other projects when she sewed it on. Carrie's eyes narrowed and ran a few paces, keeping her stride even, but more importantly silent as she approached and with a quick pull on the shoulder snatched the loop of the bag right off the woman's arm in one smooth motion as she ran forward, only stopping a few paces ahead to check to see if there was something missing from it's contents.