It's a nice day out, so Ellie has moved her usual morning routine outside to a playground. She doesn't have her weights, but she can do most of her exercises, and enjoy the mroning breeze.

Except the part she did not consider with this? Was the part where playgrounds are so good for playing. So instead of the push-ups or jog around that she should be doing right now, she is propelling herself down the slide, hands in the air, and then climbing the ladder to get back on the structure. Again.

...She'll get back to her routine eventually, really. Or maybe not, should somebody come be ridiculous with her.



Celeste sits at the edge of the water, settles where the tide will just barely come lap at her legs. She's been out her on the beach a while, thinking, staring into the sea; the sun is setting now, and she's tilted back on her elbows to watch the colors and the clouds shift across the sky.

Now and again the wind will come blowing harder in the otherwise calm day, playing at the edge of the waves when she gets bored, but mostly? She's content just to sit there and do nothing.



Jackson has coffee. He has pie, too, but if he's gonna be honest, the coffee excites him a whole lot more. He hasn't been up so long that it isn't safe to drive, but he's starting to yawn, and he'd like to hit his destination today. It'll only be another couple of hours, once he leaves the cafe and gets out of this city, back on the road; it shouldn't be too much to ask. The coffee will just make it a little more pleasant.

Some company might help, too, but he's not going to ask unless he runs into family, or somebody looks like they need the lift. Or his Calling acts up. He never can predict when that might change his plans.



David has candy. He's munching as he wanders the streets, mostly aimless, occasionally picking pockets of adults who can't see him. He's not as handsy as some of the other Children's Angels in the family, not as utterly incapable of keeping from taking something shiny, but it's fun and it keeps him sharp. Besides, he doesn't have much else to do at the moment, although he's keeping an eye out -- for familiar faces, kids who need a hand, or just anything interesting in general. He might even share his candy, if someone wanted some.



Shell has his wings out. He is up in a tree, knees pulled tight to his chest and one wing tucked in as close as possible, trying very hard not to be seen. The wing not tucked around him is set at an awkward angle, and he winces when it knocks into the tree.

He's not really a fighter, but there had been a pretty young Archangel having some trouble, and Shell isn't so good at ignoring the Guardian in him when it comes to helping and protecting people. But now, after the demon has cleared off and he sent the angel on his way, he's stuck here with a broken wing that keeps him from pulling them in, and therefore from getting home unobtrusively.



Connor has taken over some space on the sidewalk, and he's playing solitare. The cards are spread out in front of him, and he's bent over the spread, making faces at his lack of moves. He's not blocking the way anywhere, but he's pretty hard to miss and he's been careful to station himself somewhere he'll see familiar faces, so if you feel like saying hi and maybe playing a game, he'll be glad for the company.



Zip has a camera. Zip's camera is going to get pointed at everything. It's just what he does, when he settles down to stop moving for a few days. He takes pictures of anything he thinks he can sell pictures of, and he takes pictures of anything he wants to remember. He's planning on being here for a little while, so you'd think he'd have the time to take his pictures later, but that's not how he works. He wants to take them now, so that he can go back and take more of anything (or anyone) that he particularly likes on film.

If he's hanging out nearby, well... hopefully you don't have any problem ending up on film.



Claire is sitting outside a Starbucks with a sketchpad and hot chocolate. She's not the best artist in the world -- passable, but far from professional -- but it's a nice waste of time, and there's something comforting about the scratch of the colored pencils on paper. She's drawing rough, quick sketches of the other occupants of the outside tables. She wouldn't mind company, but someone might end up becoming the object of her focus of if they join her.