[So, guess who still hasn't figured out that she has a credit card? Not that she would anyway - Nice is far more comfortable with 'borrowing' things. Especially things such as
this. Dressed a little more warmly now, she's just wasting her time wandering around the streets of Paris. She'd already found some where to stock up on ingrediants for her home made bombs, so now she just had to find something else to do. Usually she'd be helping Jacuzzi sell bootlegged liquor, or lifting money for them to get by on. But here? None of the locals seemed to care whether or not she paid for anything.
Long story short, Nice was bored half to death. She knew she shouldn't be - this was Paris afterall! But she didn't want to be here. She wanted to be home. In New York, with her gang, with what she knew and trusted.
As the rain comes down heavier, she pulls her collar up and makes it a point to find somewhere to stay]