Heading out into Granite Park from the dim recesses of the building should be blinding in the dawn of a breaking day.
It isn't.
Gray clouds cover the sky, and the sun pierces them with a sickly green light. There's a light sprinkle of rain that's just started falling, that feels almost oily to the touch.
In the distance, figures can be seen. Skaters, maybe street thugs. They also used to call some of them 'stoners'. They look like they're just hanging out at the park... except they seem to wander closer and closer. Some wear hoodies, others hats.
Protection from the rain.
Protection from inquisitive eyes.
"It happened by the bleachers," West says, breaking into a jog.
The bleachers line the baseball field, clustering on each side of the diamond near the batter's box. Some days, they're just bleachers. Today, they'll be a metal maze. Ash and Joshua can already pick out a cluster of figures around the back of one section. They're about a three football fields away.
No sweat for men that have spent months running.
Roll (STA + Athletics + any applicable Merit or Specialty) three times.