Survival Of The Fittest

Miranda slowly stretched her muscles.

It was early, she had to admit. And it was Sunday. Pretty much everyone would have something to do sometime today. Everyone. Heck, Miranda probably would have something to do later on. Depends on what everyone was up to, really. Right now, though, she needed to exercise a bit. The park was Miranda's favorite place to jog, and the morning was her favorite time to do it. So obviously, she jogged in the park in the morning, of course. Centennial Park had a good jogging trail on it, and it was often very pretty. She wasn't usually around this early, but still.

She slowly lifted herself from stretching forward, and took a deep breath.

Though she had to admit as well, it was chilly. A bit of snow still covered the ground, though by the looks of things they had managed to clear some of it off the trail before she had shown up. Still though. She needed to jog a bit. Just because it was cold didn't mean she couldn't exercise. It gave her no excuse to stay indoors and let her muscles weaken until things warmed up a bit more. After all, it was still January, and it would take a while for the snow and cold to disappear. Thankfully, she had decided to dress appropriately that day, in a warm jacket and such.

Okay, she would do several laps on the trail. Just jogging. Nothing particularly special. Part of her wanted to get something hot after this. Perhaps tea, or even coffee or hot chocolate? Tea. Tea was a bit better. Perhaps Green Tea? Sure. Actually, she knew of several places where she could get something warm. And even then, she could always make something at home. And... oh dear. Miranda had just remembered that she hadn't eaten breakfast yet. Well, that was kind of dumb, wasn't it? If she had to exercise, it was better to get some energy in you first. Breakfast was kind of important, after all. So after this... she needed to eat since she was an idiot and forgot to.

So anyways. Jogging.

Miranda took off on the trail, feeling her muscles get to work.

She knew she had to stay in shape for track. Otherwise, she'd be a laughingstock! Heck, she had already forgotten breakfast, and that was bad enough. If she stopped now, she might have trouble starting again!

This was how she was going to spend her morning, and frankly, she wasn't going to stop for a while, even if it was 6 AM and cold.

As she jogged, she couldn't help but wonder what the others were up to. Like, what about Kat? Or Mara? Or... heck, pretty much everyone? Well, not her. Or him. Especially not her. But you know, the people she would have liked to talk to. Perhaps that was another thing she needed to do after this, see what's going on.

Gah. She needed to make a lot of plans all the time, didn't she?

((Bianca Howard start))

Bianca finished tying her shoes and stood up. She checked her pockets to make sure she had her phone, keys, and a flashlight. If she was going to run this early in the morning, she was going to be safe about it. She stepped out the door behind her mother, who'd had an early morning meeting, and locked it. Running through the checklist one more time, she waved good bye to her mother and headed towards the park. She walked giving her muscles time to stretch. She wasn't planning on doing a serious run today, just a couple laps to keep her in shape and get a jump on track season.

She entered the park wishing she'd brought her i-pod, but her mother had forbidden it, saying that she needed to be aware of her surroundings. Bianca was half-way to the trail when she realized that Miranda was already there. "I was sure I was the only one crazy enough to be up this early," she thought. At least now she'd have some company. She should have thought of that idea earlier.

Bianca put on a little speed to catch up to her teammate. "Hey, Miranda. Mind if I do a few laps with you?"

Oh fuck, Arthur Wells thought as he stirred on the park bench. How long had he been asleep?

He checked his watch and let out a relieved sigh. It was still morning. Only about an hour had passed since he came to the park, looking to get out of his house for once and have some fresh air. It wasn't that he preferred the great outdoors. Despite all of the people around him talking about how much better things were in nature, how sad it would be when the encroachment of civilization wiped the last trace of greenery off the face of the earth, and how it was healthy to go outdoors instead of being stuck inside one room all day, Arthur didn't often tolerate staying outside. The sun and the weather were x-factors that changed from day to day, and he didn't know if cold, bitter winds or sweltering heat waves would knock him out of his comfort zone. Plus, that much sunlight made it hard for him to read his laptop screen, not to mention the lack of available outlets or wireless networks to connect to. So normally he viewed the great outdoors as the space between destinations, or something to admire, write and draw about from a distance.

But if he was ever going to make it as an artist, he kept telling himself, he needed to keep breaking out of his comfort zone in order to expand it. So here he was, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets to protect them from the cold. His nose got no such protection, flushing pink with the temperature and feeling like the blood inside was turning to slush. Even before he fell asleep, Arthur had to wipe it off on his sleeve multiple times. To top it all off, his haphazard sleeping schedule had turned on him again, somehow making him nod off while facedown on a bench and with a heavy backpack pressing down on him. He knew he'd have to pay the price for staying up late and getting up early.

As he tried to think of why else he'd come to the park in the first place, he held his face in his hands. When his skin touched stubble, he took his hood down and felt more of his face, imagining how he must look from the outside. With his uncut hair, day-old beard, and hoodie, he imagined he could pull off a decent bum impression. All he needed was body odor, booze on his breath, and his clothing in shabbier condition. How lucky he was not to have been harassed and forced to move by the local police.

He slid his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped it, pulling out a sketchbook and pencil. This was what he was going for before he decided to lie down on the bench, he supposed. Now, what was he going to try to draw? A quick glance into the distance showed him an interesting-looking tree, without a single leaf hiding the network of branches at the top. He was going to draw trees, he supposed. He'd never done it before, after all.

When Miranda passed by on a nearby trail, he didn't pay her much regard. She was a girl his age who was into jogging, and that was pretty much all he knew about her. He wondered if he should maybe be drawing her instead. After all, he'd have to keep coming back to the human figure sometime, and he needed more action poses. But since he wasn't doing half bad with the tree for now, he just took his iPod out of his hoodie pocket and snapped a picture of her with it. Then he started drawing a crude rendition of her next to the tree for the sake of scale. The appearance of the second girl just made him snap another picture for him to draw from later.

Miranda continued jogging, her breath coming out in puffs of cold air.

Okay, so she had to finish this lap, at least. She didn't need to make it a chore. Instead, it needed to be... exercising. Fun exercising. God, she didn't know. Either way, she knew not to make this seem like a chore. It would be cliched to call it like an adventure, though, but she guessed it was?

Either way. Get this done. It might never be done if she stopped now, right? So just... yeah. Jogging!

A second pair of footsteps matched beside hers on the trail, and soon another girl from her school had surfaced. Bianca Howard! Now, Miranda didn't mind Bianca too much. They were both on the track team, after all, and they did have similar interests. Of course, Miranda couldn't help but wag her finger a bit at her flirting with all the guys. Guys weren't supposed to be passed around like cheap socks, silly girl! What would people think?


The hypocrisy of that thought was completely lost on Miranda.


Eh. Might as well let her hang around. She was a nice enough girl, she thought! You never know, though, since people act a lot differently under different circumstances. But eh, worth it? Sure, why not? They were team mates, after all.

"Sure, go ahead!" she managed to get out as she jogged.

And hey. Perhaps this meant she wasn't the only one who jogged this early and in the cold. Maybe. Perhaps she viewed her as obsessive. But then she was doing the same thing. Perhaps she was jogging with her because she saw her and pitied her. Or perhaps- okay, her thoughts were getting out of line again!

As they jogged, she saw a figure sitting on a bench. Was it some kind of homeless person? God, she couldn't tell right now. But perhaps it was some kind of homeless person. Miranda always had conflicted thoughts about homeless people. She sometimes felt sorry for them, but what if they got that way because they weren't determined enough to get what they wanted? What if they got that way because of drugs? What if it wasn't a homeless person though? Well, he sure looked like one. He looked as if he had been sleeping on the bench. Or at the very least, he looked shifty. Shifty, like a guy who'd eat your children.

The guy took an object out of his jacket. Was it an iPod or phone? Looked like one or the other. Miranda could tell that it was definitely some sort of electronic device. Was he aiming it towards them? A surge of paranoia passed over her. She knew that some iPods and phones had cameras. And he looked shifty to boot. What if... oh god. Maybe she was just being paranoid and that guy was just taking his phone out or whatever, but seriously, it was as if he had been aiming it in their direction. Miranda knew she could get paranoid sometimes, but seriously.

"Hey... uh... Bianca? Did you see that?"

(Ian Valmont, start.)

Ian figured that he was probably supposed to have better things to do right now. He could actually make a nice list of better things to be doing right now, if he thought about it. There was his sleeping, obviously, but Ian always had liked the mornings in a weird way. Then there was homework and studying, and after that well...he paused, cocking his head in contemplation.

Okay, so, actually, there really wasn't much better for Ian to do at the moment. Which was probably why he was at a park when the sun had barely risen.

He shifted the messenger bag slung over his shoulder a little, wincing at the weight. He'd run into a wall three days ago, and the bruise that was growing on his left side had started to turn a peculiarly interesting yellow color. If Ian was a photographer, he'd probably take a picture. Although the bones he'd have to break in order to take said picture may or may not actually be worth that pain.

Centennial Park was a pretty cool place, overall. Ian didn't find himself there often, but today his feet had taken him and he'd wound up here. He shrugged a bit to himself. It was as good a place as any.

The building he had in mind was a large, strange stone structure that held the incredibly disgusting public bathrooms. It was a sad color of almost-grey, and the stone was crumbling a bit in places. Over the years, people had signed their names, initials, graduation years, and favorite derogatory sayings all across it- but there was one space that was almost completely untouched.

And 6AM on a Sunday was a really good time to break some vandalism laws.

Ian saw people, of course. There were the crazy joggers and the crazy homeless people and the other various shady figures who hung out in parks at unreasonable times in the morning, but none of them would probably care or notice the weird dude in a gasmask spray-painting behind a bathroom. Or, at least, that was what Ian was banking on. He'd learned a few years ago, through some trial and error, that the best times to spray paint where when there was no one around who would give a damn.

Usually Ian wasn't so eager to drag himself all the way to a park somewhat out of the way of his home in order to spray paint, but a few days ago he'd finally finished the stencil he'd been working on. It sat in his bag now- a life-sized cat, complete with artistically cut spaces that would leave enough negative space for eyes, nose, and whiskers. He'd even found a sweet quote to put with it: "I see some other cat looking over his shoulder at me." The words were a bit tiny, due to the cat being a bit larger than he'd thought it would be, but it still went nice together. Big blocky letters and a clean-cut cat, all done in smooth, dark purple. He had no doubt the finished product would be worth the time he spent on it.

Ian reached the building and dropped his bag to the ground. He took a moment to appraise his canvas, nodding. He loved this moment. There was something so intensely gratifying about finishing a project, about putting his work out there. The rush of it all was half the reason he even bothered.

Slowly, he fished out his mask, paint, and stencil. The cat was the main piece, so that'd go first, and then he'd place the words in the space around it. He popped off his cap and got to work.

Bianca slowed her pace to match Miranda's, when Miranda asked her a question.

"Catch the guy hanging out on the bench with a sketch pad? Yep, I totally saw that. I'm starting to rethink the whole early morning jog thing," Bianca said. She glanced over her shoulder and continued on the trail. "I think he goes to our school."

She fell silent for a few moments, her senses on high alert for anything else out of the ordinary. Not that she knew what exactly was ordinary for pre-dawn in the park. She had just about convinced herself that everything was fine, when she caught a movement by the bathroom.

She nudged Miranda with her elbow and motioned over towards the bathroom. "Was there some memo I didn't know about or are there always this many shady people hanging around the park?"

Oh fuck. They saw him. Arthur immediately stopped drawing as soon as he noticed both of the girls staring right back at him from across the park. He didn't need to hear what they were saying to know the impression he'd left on them. Pervert, they'd call him. Creeper. Peeping Tom. Voyeur. His mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario, imagining these two girls telling all of their friends about the weird kid taking pictures of nubile, jogging women to jerk off to at home. Then the bullying would commence. He assumed. He'd never really been bullied before, but he'd seen it on TV and in movies. It wasn't something he wanted to experience personally.

Why did he keep shooting himself in the foot? What was he thinking, drawing in public? Just because he'd gotten away with it dozens of times before didn't mean it wasn't wrong, didn't mean people wouldn't hate him for it. If only he hadn't gotten up early and gone outside today he wouldn't be in this situation. None of this shit ever happened on the internet! What was he supposed to do now? Go home? He'd have to walk past them and then they'd yell at him for being a freak. Talk to them? He couldn't talk to strangers he had nothing in common with. It was impossible.

Neither of the girls knew he was thinking all of these things, of course. They just saw Arthur on the bench, looking at them as if they were pointing guns at his head. What a freak.

[Joshua Edwards - Start]

It hadn't been long since Joshua set up shop there on the jogging trail. His guitar case was propped open in front of him as he stood just off the path, and his fingers worked at the neck of the guitar to get a feel for it in the cold. It was cold out, but that didn't break Joshua from his routine. He counted on the joggers and early morning park goers for his lunch money, and he'll be damned if he was going to miss out on perfectly good cash just because it was cold and had recently snowed. To call it a blizzard was pushing it, but it had been more than Seattle normally got, and it freaked people out. Joshua loved it though, and made a few extra bucks when it all hit and people weren't prepared for it. He cleaned off cars, shoveled out driveways, and even picked up a twenty for getting his neighbor's car doors open when they had frozen shut.

Maybe Joshua dismissed the snow a little too much. He'd spent time with relatives in New England, Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Ohio before, and he'd had plenty of experience with snowstorms. The one that hit Seattle earlier on in the previous week was nothing compared to the snow that his grandmother got, but even without watching the news, he knew it had been destructive in its own right. It had brought traffic to a crawl and a lot of people got stuck, so maybe he did dismiss it a little too much, but the snow didn't stop him. He just went about his normal routine and adjusted when it called for it, but he enjoyed playing too much to give up playing at the park or the library, or even outside the bookstore.

The guitar sang as he struck a chord and searched his mind for which song to play. The joggers were few and far between, but he didn't care. He was going to play just for the sake of playing, and that was how he always did it. Even if there wasn't a single person in the park and the forecast called for rain, he would play. It wasn't any different in the winter. So Joshua stood there and watched a couple of distant joggers follow the trail, and he looked down at the melting snow scattered around the park. It wouldn't be long before all of it would be gone, and the sun would be out again. That gave him an idea. It wasn't sunny yet, and he doubted there would be any sun at all that day, but he still got the idea and the song slowly came to him as his fingers worked the strings.

It didn't take long for him to get into the song completely, and start humming the tune to himself as he strummed. It was unusual to play it on the guitar, and it took a bit of work to make it fit his favored instrument, but the song that normally would have started off with a piano and drums translated well enough to the guitar, despite a moment of awkwardness at the start. Joshua found his rhythm and stopped humming as he took a deep breath, mentally cursed the cold, and began singing. The song was a favorite of his by Jonathan Coulton, and Joshua did his best to do it justice.

"Early light that burns my eyes,
A minute more the sun will rise
And paint the bright blue sky with yellow gold."

He flashed a smile as he took a quick breath and allowed for a brief pause before he continued.

"I'll be dead asleep by then,
Shut up in this box again
Until it's gone
Outside I can hear it."

The song got cheerier then, and Joshua's voice rose to match the tune that his guitar let out, his fingers working at the neck and his foot tapping on the ground the entire time. He wasn't quite trained, but practice made perfect as he pushed his voice so that it carried as well as it could. It was far from a trained singers voice, but it was a practiced one at least.

"Birds are singing, bees are buzzing, sun shines overhead
I'd be there to see it but I can't get out of bed
Since the day you left the weather always feels this way
One more blue sunny day."

He held the note on blue and his smile grew wider as he played on. The music dropped off for a moment, and he caught his breath. He cursed the cold, but he also cursed his smoking. He knew he would probably need to quit if he wanted to keep singing. He hadn't thought about it when he started up the habit again, but cigarettes were hell on lungs and even worse on voices. If he wanted to keep belting out the lyrics to the tunes he played, he would need to give up the smoking at some point. Maybe next week. But the moment was over, and he got right back into the song without missing a beat.

"Looking for an easy mark
I hit the Denny's after dark
And take a lonely waitress home to drink."

Another pause and Joshua grinned at a passing jogger, hoping to eek out some spare change with a friendly smile and a cheery tune. It didn't work and the older man just passed him by. Joshua didn't let it get him down though, and just kept on playing his heart out.

"She's sincere but halfway through
I find I'm wishing she was you
My blood goes cold
I guess this date is over."

The sing picked up again and so did Joshua's singing, that bright smile returning to his face as he sang. The song was starting to sting a little. The cold stung at his lungs and the lyrics themselves stung at him. It always brought him back to that break up, but he sang on and didn't let the sting show, hiding it behind that smile and the dimples that came with it.

"Several hours later I'm the only one awake
All these streets are empty, it's just me and my mistake
One by one the stars go out as black sky turns to gray
One more blue sunny day."

He held on blue again, and that great grin returned as he watched the girls coming down the trail. They were classmates of his and he always enjoyed seeming them out and about, enjoying the park as much as he did. Sometimes they even tipped him a buck or two, and he was hoping for that result as he watched them. The brunette with her chestnut brown hair and legs that just went on and on, and the blond with the hips that just didn't stop. He lost track of where he was in the song as he watched them run, but he came back to the lyrics with renewed energy. If he finished strong as they passed, maybe they would tip him. The song did end with a nice verse, and with that smile of his and a little tip toward the two of them, perhaps he could just pull off charming.

"The worlds so bright and beautiful I have to look away
Braced against the beauty of another perfect day
As I go to pieces and the breeze blows me away
One more blue sunny day."

((So sorry everyone. X_x))

Okay, this was getting freaky.

According to Bianca, the person on the bench was one of their classmates and had a sketchpad. That was creepy! Why would they do something like that? She bet that when they got home, they were going to masturbate to their pictures or use it to stalk them or something. Whatever the story was, Miranda didn't think it looked good. Usually, if people were holding up electronic devices to you and had a sketchpad, it didn't paint a pretty picture. Even if it wasn't a creeper, it could easily be someone from the school newspaper or something, looking for some dirty scoop on their classmates. Either way, it looked awful.

To make matters worse? Yes, Miranda had seen the shadow nearby the bathroom. Seriously, what the hell? Okay, Miranda had been to this park dozens of times. She never saw any thing too out of the ordinary... until now. For whatever reason, the creepers were popping out of the woodwork this morning. Maybe it was because it was early, but since when was this park a magnet for the shady types? Was there something she missed? Sure it was still getting light out, but you know. Even when she came to the park early in the morning it didn't attract every single pervert or criminal or shady person in Seattle or whatever most of the time. Why was that one wearing a gas mask, anyways? She couldn't tell what it was doing, and maybe she saw incorrectly because of the lighting and such, but she was sure that was what it was wearing. What a freak. What was the need for a gas mask? Expecting to get gassed here or something? God, some people were really freaking weird, even for Seattle.

"Yeah, saw that. Kinda regretting this as well. It's like... god... it's not normally like this, I'm sure?"

God, she didn't even know how to describe it. Turns out this place could get rather freaky when it wanted to! Perhaps she should go home early, or go jog elsewhere, or something. Gah, but she needed to jog, creepers or not. Thing was, the creepers were making that-


Was that singing?


Miranda knew that oftentimes people came to the park to play music. Of course they would. Sometimes they would practice. Other times they were looking for donations. Perhaps a bit of both. Either way, apparently the park was starting to awaken.

As they jogged further, she could see it was Joshua Edwards. Another one of their classmates? Yeah. God, apparently this place was swarming. She knew that he hung around here sometimes, though, so he was a regular-person-thing here, she guessed.

Ultimately, it didn't take Ian all that long to finish up his piece. He pulled off the mask, giving it a quick nod of approval. It never came out exactly as awesome as he pictured it, but he was pretty good with the way it turned out, in the end. Point was that he was done, which, as always, left a nice buzzing in his gut.

It also meant that he was alone in a park on a snowy Sunday morning with nothing to do for the rest of the day.

Ian sighed, stuffing his mask back into his bag. He shuffled around through his other stuff- mostly notebooks, spray paint cans, and a ton of random pens- to find his thermos. It was a ridiculous ripoff to go to coffee shops, especially because almost all of them sold the same crap you could get in stores and make at home for much, much cheaper. Besides, what was the point of going to a specialty coffee store? All Ian ever drank was coffee with a splash of milk- nothing fancy or overly sweet.

He unscrewed the lid and took a small sip, savoring the warmth of the drink. It wouldn't be a terrible idea to take a walk, he figured. The weather was nice enough, it was early, and he really didn't have anything better to do.

Ian heard the music before he saw the player. It was a pretty nice guitar piece. Ian had no idea what the song was, but he was pretty sure he knew who was singing it.

Sure enough, another minute and he'd walked across Joshua Edwards, standing and playing for no one in particular. Ian had to hand it to the guy- it was pretty cool to just enjoy playing music for the sake of the music, and not for any real recognition. Ian leaned against a tree near his classmate, nodding his head along to the beat a bit. When Josh finished, he applauded, a bit, grinning.

"Hey Josh! Nice song there. It's a good day for it, yeah?" Ian pulled out his thermos, pouring a bit of coffee in the lid. "Want some? I got plenty to spare." He held out the cup in offer, shaking it a bit to entice his friend.

Bianca blew out a long breath. "I guess that's what we get for deciding to go running this early in the morning," she half joked.

She was still a little on edge, although the appearance of more people made her rest a little easier. Surely something was less likely to happen as the park filled up with people. Which brought her to another train of thought, what were all these people doing in the park after a snow storm? She'd decided she wanted to go running, and the fact that there was still snow had been more of an incentive. She loved snow, at least here in the park, when it looked all perfect and white.

The song playing sounded vaguely familiar and she looked around to see where it was coming from. She spotted another classmate just off the trail ahead. It was Joshua, she paused, Joshua Edwards from the soccer team. Funny, she'd never noticed him before. He was kind of cute, although she didn't know about the piercings she saw as they jogged closer. Still there was some potential there. Now that the bathroom artist had joined Joshua, she recognized him as Ian…something.

Maybe the park wasn't as creepy as she thought. She focused on the movements of her feet, feeling herself relax as she found her stride.

Arthur shut his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down before he did something impulsive again. The last time that happened, one of his online friends went from being a bit miffed at him to not speaking with him for a whole week. He just couldn't take any more of that sort of guilt in his life.

At that point he tried to recall something else to help him, and he remembered his last session with Dr. Cooper. "No matter what you do," she'd told him, "you won't be able to please everyone. Some people aren't going to be friends with you, and the sooner you stop worrying about what everyone else thinks, the better." It was good advice. Heeding it would probably lead to more people liking his art and writing. Probably. He couldn't be sure. But these girls didn't really matter.

The acoustic guitar music proved to be a welcome distraction. Arthur looked around for the source and found it to be a guy on a nearby bench, strumming and singing without a care in the world. There was a man for Arthur to envy. He wasn't worrying about passers-by starting rumors about him. No, he just kept playing his songs by ear. Those lyrics worked surprisingly well for being off-the-cuff. Arthur didn't know anything about making music, so this was like black magic to his mind. Would this guy mind if Arthur drew a picture of him?

As Arthur got up and trudged through the snow to get a better look, he shivered, realizing just how cold it was outside. How tired was he to have actually taken a nap for an hour, letting snow drift onto his body? He was well-covered, yes, but that still didn't keep his teeth from chattering or his face from blushing. What was he thinking, going out in this weather?

He got within ten feet of the guy, close enough to see his face and recognize it from somewhere, when he saw another familiar face come up and offer the guitarist some of his coffee. "Ian?" he asked with a smile on his face. Finally, he had a friend with him. The two of them had bonded over their mutual interests in art, with Ian showing Arthur the finer points of street art and introducing him to several excellent bands. Though they didn't share their interests entirely (aside from the excellent Metropolis and Modern Times, Arthur didn't really get silent movies like Ian did), they were close enough for Arthur to drop his blanket of discomfort around him. "What are you doing out here?"

Arthur didn't take a seat with them on the bench. He just stood by and got his sketchbook out again, opening it to a new page and making circles to represent the guitarist's body. Then the hand with his pencil in it smacked into his forehead as he remembered the mistake he made not half an hour ago. Ask first, dammit!

"Sorry, I probably should have asked before... doing..." Once again his words failed him. He didn't know this guy... or did he? Yes, now that he thought about it, the two of them had talked before... but it was all business. The guitarist was a clerk who worked at Elysium Comics and Gaming, and he'd rung up countless trade paperbacks that Arthur had bought over the last few years. That was it. They didn't even know each others' names. "Sorry."

It was always nice to see people out and about, enjoying the park even in the less than beautiful weather. There were the girls jogging together, the boy on the bench, Ian standing nearby after finishing his vandalism, and the myriad of other people who were filtering in to the park as the day began. Everyone had their routines, and playing for the joggers, the day trippers, the mothers and nannies with young kids, the homeless, the bored, those who had nothing better to do, and even those who were just on their way to work, was his. He always liked playing for an audience, particularly if they tipped.

He let the guitar hang in front of him, dangling from its strap, as he flexed his fingers against the cold to bring some warmth and flexibility back in to the aching joints. The cold was hell to play in but he enjoyed it, and it was something of a challenge to keep his fingers moving on the strings despite what the cold did to him. Soon enough the cold would be gone, and it would be back to the rain and the gloom and the rare glimpse of sunshine on a beautiful day. For now though, they all just had to put up with the cold and the snow and the overcast skies of winter in the pacific northwest. He cracked his fingers and rubbed his hands together, blowing in to them. It wasn't as cold as it had been earlier in the week, but it was still bitterly cold.

Ian offered up some coffee after his applause and the temptation was there to accept it, but Ian liked his coffee almost black and Joshua was more of a cream and sugar kind of guy. "No thanks, but thanks for the offer," Joshua said in the same warm tone he always used, and beamed his little smile. He tapped the guitar case with the tip of his shoe. "I should have enough in about an hour for coffee, breakfast, and even lunch later on if I don't spring for anything expensive. If my luck from last time holds out, at least. Came away with almost $30," he said, flashing that smile again and laying a hand on the neck of the guitar. "And it's all thanks to this."

Joshua idly plucked a couple of the strings as he did his best to ignore the acrid stench of paint fumes coming from Ian. He hoped that Ian would spend some time in the breeze to air out, but he did what he could to avoid showing any discomfort from the smell. The stiff cold breeze that drifted in slowly every now and then brought in some fresh air with the cold sting of winter behind it, helping to cover up that paint fume smell. Reminds me of when I was younger, Joshua thought, and grinned inwardly at that. He remembered hanging out with the 'bad crowd', as his uncle had put it, and going around spray-painting lewd pictures on signs, cars and mailboxes. Last he heard, the older boy who stole the paint got pinched for armed robbery. His uncle saved his life in a way, and Joshua knew it. I thank him every day for that. Even if he is a slave driver.

He tried not to listen in when Ian was addressed by the guy with the sketchbook, spending that moment by watching the girls instead; they were far more interesting than the idle chitchat of his classmates. When he caught the gaze of the blond, he flashed her a smile and drew up one pierced eyebrow before giving her a nod. He could just make out her fair complexion and sharp features, those lips that he would love to see give turn up in a bright smile, and the slight discoloration across the bridge of her nose. He tried his best to avoid making it obvious that he was checking her out, but those curves caught his eye as he watched her jog and they were hard to ignore. Damn, he thought, and forced his eyes back to hers. His uncle would smack him the back of the head if he caught him checking her out instead of keeping eye contact.

The guy with the sketchpad, Arthur something-or-other, dragged his focus back to the conversation. He had pulled out his sketchbook and was apparently going to draw Joshua, but stopped and apologized. He was a little weird, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary among the crowd that hung out at the comic book store. At least he was nice enough, and he didn't seem like a creep. "Nah, it's alright, feel free. Long as I get to see it when you're done," Joshua said with a grin and a brief friendly laugh. It paid to be nice, even with the awkward ones. "In fact, I'll trade ya. A song for a picture. Got anything particular in mind? If I know it, I'll play it."

Yes, maybe that was it. They were off jogging early so creepy people show up, huh? Still didn't explain why today, of all days, did the creepers come out of the woodwork. Seriously. But maybe they had been there every time she showed up. Maybe they had stared at her the entire time she jogged here. Maybe that was it. What then? They could have been following her back, and learning where she lived! No, actually, that would be ridiculous. Right? She thought so, but the thought still remained.

But yeah. Maybe that was what they got for doing it so early. Perhaps. Miranda didn't know. Maybe they should come back later, when the park was less... yeah. The music had calmed her down a bit, though. Music had that way of making people more calm and soothing them a bit. It also meant more people were swarming in. Because otherwise, it would mean that he would be playing to himself, correct?

Wait a second, why were people swarming towards Joshua? Seriously, some of which were people she recognized as classmates as well. Was one of them the creeper from earlier? A frown passed over Miranda's face as she noticed the sketchpad, as if he was going to draw them as well. Yup, possibly. A good chance, actually. It was a bit more light out, and she could recognize him as a classmate. The other seemed to be Ian-something-or-other. That was the kid that always smelled like paint, that she remembered. Okay, so it looked like her classmates were swarming here, and they were doing things like taking pictures of women jogging and sketching people. Wonderful.

A part of her wondered a bit. Should they talk to them? She didn't know. Well, they were her classmates correct? Even if they were creepers, they still went to school together. If they did something creepy, it was going to get back to the rest of the school so quickly, they wouldn't be able to blink.

"Bianca, let's go talk to them", she whispered.

And with that she jogged towards the group, slowing down her pace in front of the bench.

"Hey. What's up?" she said, standing in front of the group, her arms folded.

Miranda forced a smile. Start off easy. Look friendly. Then confront them if they do anything weird. Or in the case of Sketchpad Boy, already did. She will have to bring it up. Just a casual question, and then confront him based on his answer. You know. It was pretty easy, actually.

Ian shrugged at his rejected coffee, smiling lazily. "Ah, no problem. More for me then." He took a hearty swig, enjoying the burn down his throat. Coffee, now that was something he could get behind every morning. Ian never was much of a breakfast person, although his mother almost always made him grab some sort of snack in case he passed out, or something. But Ian's parents guzzled coffee like they were narcoleptics, and if he was gonna pick up bad habits, a mild caffeine addiction was probably the best he could get away with.

Ian whistled at Josh's guitar. "She's a beauty, man." He was about to say something else- not that, for all his love of rock, he actually knew anything about guitars- when a third person walked up.

"Artie!" Ian grinned, reaching over to smack his friend on the back. "Man, weird seeing you here? You up sketching the early birds or something?"

He shrugged a shoulder at Artie's question, shaking his head. "What do you think I'm doing? I am leaving my mark on this world. A powerful mark at that. One that breaks down societal barriers, shatters your perceptions of normal, and dares to ask the question- 'Does anyone actually listen to any Donovan?' The answer, naturally, is no." He shook his head, contemplating the tragedy that was Donovan's lack of a modern-day listening base. "Regardless, Season of the Witch is an awesome song."

It occurred to him that neither Josh or Artie probably had any idea what he was talking about, so he nodded down the path in the general direction of the bathroom. "If you want to see the latest piece of Ian Valmont: Street Artist, you can mosey on over there at your own choosing."

Ian turned to say something to Josh when he caught the boy staring into the distance. He followed his gaze, laughing a little when he saw the jogger. "Seriously dude? Blondes? I wouldn't have taken you for a blonde man, personally."

The blonde, as it was, was approaching the group rather steadily. There was another girl next to her, as well, making use of the morning for jogging, apparently. He narrowed his eyes as they came into view. Oh, yeah. Miranda and Bianca, Aurora High...well, Ian had no idea if Royalty was the appropriate term, but they were certainly Aurora High somethingorother.

He smiled as Miranda approached, giving her a lazy wave. "Hey Miranda, Bianca. Lovely day for a jog, yeah?"