Just Incase -open-

[Colton Nozuka]

Colton had made it through a day of school without any major outbreaks and back talking although in practice, he snapped at his instructor when he was scolded for holding his sticks in his back pocket. Who was he to say where Colton put his drumsticks? He wasn't anyone but some guy who had knowledge of notes and tempo; that's it. This school was starting to piss him off so he decided to go for a bit of a breather. Maybe a jog in the park would deflate his expanding temper before it explodes into a million pieces.

He had changed from his school attire to a light teeshirt and shorts; it wasn't that cold although way colder than back home. His heart ached for Australia again. He missed the sparkling waters, the high rises that reached the blue, cloudless sky and the familliar faces as he walked the streets on his way to work. He missed their accents and how they always seemed to put on a smile even when life was dragging them down.

It was decided, a jog was necessary to forget about home for a while and to work off the amount of unneeded consumption of food. Walking to the large park, he then picked up a brisk jog when his stretches were done. Colton would stretch a little before exercise and then do a more thorough job when he was cooling off. His feet made rythmical beats on the ground as he thought of the tabs he needed to memorize for next weeks tempo test. He needed to beats to be just right to pass and the song was an array of notes ranging almost everywhere. It would be a challenge but not too bad if he memorized the composition.

The eighteen year old was in his head as he almost mechanically jogged, a bit of persperation starting to bead on his forehead. Snapping back to reality and the multicoloured leaves on the ground and some still sticking to the trees, he then noticed a basketball court to his left. Doubting there would be a ball, he slowed his steps to enter the fenced off area. To his surprise, an orange basketball was sitting in one of the leaf ridden corners. Grabbing the fully inflated ball, Colton dribbled and relayed some tricks he'd been taught when he was on his old school's basketball team. Apparently, he remembered some of them pretty well. Deciding to play, Colton dribbled up to the half line, weaving around invisible opponents and then moving to the net. His body tensed and pushed off the ground as he leaped into the air, sending the ball into the net as he displayed a layup. The ball hit the backboard and swished into the hoop and out the net, landing on the ground and bouncing away. Colton wondered if anyone else knew about the courts; they seemed well taken care of but not used very often.

[joseph posen]

ashes to ashes

Joe ran a hand through his dark hair. He hadn't dyed it for a while and it had remained its natural colour of a rather dull brown. For a long time it had been blond, just plain blond, no highlights. He was too lazy to highlight it. He was a lazy artist by nature and just threw a loud of crap into a pile to create art. That was his fashion and his function. What he'd made his life on, so far. He didn't really think art would carry him on any further than school, but it looked good on a reseme that he had imagination. Art created imagination. He had a great dislike of the organized and just didn't see the point in it. Files and cabinets were just a waste of space that could be taken up by other things. Sculptures for example.

The seventeen year old from Mount Isa, Australia, raised his eyes to the skies. A cold day it wasn't, even in autumn. He didn't experience autumn much at home, it was much warmer. But, he wasn't really very bothered about the heat, or lack of. He'd discovered long ago that if you spent long enough out of doors you could stand most weathers for enough time to do whatever you wished outside. He'd spent most of his childhood outside, mostly jet-skiing on the lake beside his house. Not a bad place to spend ones childhood, even if it did mean flooding at least once a year. He hadn't been back to Mount Isa for over two years, it had probably changed since then. Global warming and such. Everything was changing now. Even the person he'd thought would never change. Ed, his big brother, was moving on in the world. At the age of 27, he was now the head of his own company, working down at the boatyards in Cambridge in his spare time. He'd been on the rowing team against Cambridge when the Oxbridge boat race was on. He'd been on the winning team, Oxford, two years in a row before leaving Oxford. Now he was a working man, married with a young son.

Joe slowed to a walk. He'd been on a quiet run through the park. He liked Hyde Park. It reminded him of home, in Oxford. Florence Park and South Park. Even Uni Parks. Hyde Park was probably bigger than all three together, but it was still a good place to go. You could really go for a good run out in the rain in Hyde. It was relaxing and usually pretty quiet. If you stuck to the gates and rail-lines all you were likely to run into was the House Hold Cavelry out on a training op. Joe had seen them whilst jogging along the west flank path. They'd all been in formation, bouncing along like a strange cartoon. Joe had given them a salute and recieved one back from the leading file rider. It had brought a smile to the artist face as he'd carried on.

Joe hadn't really planned this out. It had been a thought of the second, something to do in the afternoon to lead onto the evening. He was supposed to meet Gabe but he was thinking of being a no-show. He didn't want to have to make up another story about a bar fight. He still had the bruise on his cheek from the last time. Not exactly the most cheerful times. Not like the past had been. But there was no point on dwelling on the past. It was the past and it wasn't coming back. But it wasn't himself he felt sorry for. He wasn't the blunt end of most of Gabe's rage. Shane took most of it, seeing as she was around him most. But there was no use dwelling on that either. Joe broke into a run, running out his thoughts. Best and only way he had.

He was just turning the corner towards the East flank when he heard the unmistakeable thud of a basket ball. He frowned and slowed, redirecting his run towards the noise. He stopped, seeing another guy playing by himself on a basket ball caught he'd never actually seen before. He'd always been a bit of a basket ball guy. Tall and agile, he'd played against Eddie since he was very young. He looked around, seeing another ball lying at the edge of the court. Did people just leave them here or had the other guy come with his own. He stepped over and picked the ball up. Directing the shot he took aim and let the ball run off his fingers as he pushed it into the air. It glided through the air, slipping through the basket and hitting the base of the net, rolling back across the court. Joe picked it up, smiling at the other boy.
"Not interupting am I?" He asked, his aussie accent clear cut in the crisp English air.

[Colton Nozuka]

Colton had been retrieving the orange rubber orb filled with air when the sounds of something going through the basket and landing hard on the concrete under made him turn around with a surprised look on his face. His eyes narrowed with confusion as he tried to place the face of the other guy that had joined him in the courts. To no avail, the eighteen year old grabbed the basketball and tucked it between his arm and his waist. He walked over towards his fellow Hoffman student, his face still confused.

Being an outgoing type of guy, he introduced himself and spoke to the stranger without hesitation although his mind was asking questions that he didn't have the answer to like: Who is it? What's he doing here? He's from our country right? Can't you hear the accent? You should be friends. He heaved a sigh and held out his hand once he was close enough to initiate contact.

Not at all. The name's Colton.

His hand had been offered and the drummer doubted it would be left hanging. If it was a girl then he could question their want to shake hands as girls don't usually do unless forced. In those situations, they offered complete and utter minutes of airtime that left both of them searching for something compelling to say to break the forming ice.

Colton then noted on his accent, knowing for sure that he was from Australia and not New Zealand or anywhere other people think their way of speaking comes from. Moving the basketball from his body to the ground just in front of his feet, Colton spoke again but this time posed a question.

I can tell you're from Australia as well. Where do you call home?

A light smile was pulling at his lips; finally someone he could talk to about Australia and where he was born. Someone to compare the places they've gone before and talk about the places they want to live without explaining the whole geography of their continent. It was a happy moment and his chest seemed to burst. An odd feeling for the eighteen year old; usually he didnt get that excited about things like that. There's always a first for everything. This was one of them.

[joseph posen]

ashes to ashes

Joe's cheerful smile was still in place, his eyes bright. He'd always had an easy disposition when it came to meeting new people. He'd been told by his father, when he was still alive, that he had the gift of being inviting. People wanted to talk to him, introduce themselves. You started off with an action, something to interest them, then either a heart filled apology or a comimentary comment. In this case it had been an apology. On most types of people, an apology worked wonders. They recieved all sorts of new thoughts about him and were able to assume that he wasan arlight guy. Usually.

The basketballer who'd arrived before him walked over, looking thoughtful. Or at least it registered in Joe's mind as thoughtful. He looked thoughtful to him. Joe never usually tried to place faces. If he remembered them, he'd do it instantly. He didn't have a memory that needed to kick in, he could remember pretty well whatever and whenever he wanted. He was also pretty good at faces and he was pretty sure he didn't know this one. Personally. He'd seen the guy around Hoffman, but never talked to him. He wasn't an artist, Joe knew most of the artist on a first name basis. Seeing the large number of musicians at Hoffman, he was most probably a musician. It was a safe guess most of the time.

His smile widened slightly as the guy held out a hand. He switched the arm that was holding the basket ball and grasped the other guys hand. Always polite. "Joe." He replied to the introduction. Ah, another aussie. He was meeting them all over the place. First Indie, now Colton. They seemed to be migrating to Hoffman in droves, or maybe he'd just met the only two aussies in London in the space of a week. The latter was probably more likely. It was just strange meeting another aussie. From his time in Oxford the only aussies had been the Gap Year students that sometimes came over to work at his boarding school. And they only stayed for a few months at most. No, he'd been the only aussie in a large group of brits. Not actually that suprising, seeing as he was in Britain.

The next question was one he'd expected. "Mount Isa." he replied, stating the name of his home town. Ah, he loved that town. With its lake that could only be called a lake by the locals. More like a glorified pond. A large glorified pond, but a glorified pond all the same. "How about you? Its not hard to tell that you're from Australia as well." He smiled, pulling the knot that was almost perminantly in the Australian rugby jumper around his waist. He always carried a rugby jumper with him on a run, just incase it rained or becamse way too cold for the warm minded Aussie.