[StarDancer's desc:]
StarDancer looks like a human-sized, teen-aged (15? 16?), cyber-punk 
Tinkerbelle. Her short, spikey, hair is the color of molten copper, and 
her skin resembles the dull side of a piece of aluminum foil. She seems 
to have a pair of built-in sunglasses, the kind that change color 
whenever she moves her head. She's small (5' 1") and wiry (96#) and has 
the classic dancer's body. To complete the cyber-fairy image, she has 
holographic wings, like shimmering rainbows, that extend when she 
flies.
StarDancer's current fashion statement is:
	A black & silver wetsuit with blue accents that clings tightly to 
her slender frame, the sleeves ending about 1/2 way down her forearms, 
and the legs ending at mid-calf, the obligatory filigree bracelets, and 
white tube-socks that descend into black moon boots.

West Main Street

	Tall structures of glass and steel continue to stretch up into 
the sky, casting the street below in a perpetual shadow and appearing 
from street level like some great manmade canyon. Main Street works 
northward toward the harbor that gives the city its name, leaving the 
center of the city to the southeast as it turns east. Some of the 
finest shopping can be found along this one stretch of Beacon Harbor 
street, world famous designers maintain boutiques here and a semi-
annual fashion extravaganza draws the attention of the fashion world to 
this city twice a year. Jewelers, dealers in antiques and other 
products targeted at the wealthy and class consciousness are sold from 
these many fine stores. Sidewalk cafes and other trendy places that 
cater to the shopping crowd are also located strategically among the 
huge structures that line both sides of the street.

StarDancer zooms by overhead, then alights upon a convenient awning to 
watch the passers-by and eat a cup of yoghurt.

Spleen is sitting on a cast-iron bench, sucking from a triple espresso 
as if it contains the Essence of Life.

Mike is jogging steadily down the street from the general direction of 
the CSCircle. He has a Walkman attached to the waistband of his jeans 
and is singing along with more enthusiasm than accuracy as he dodges 
pedestrians. And the occasional car.

StarDancer finishes her yoghurt and flies down to deposit the empty cup 
in a trashcan.

Mike dodges into the road to avoid running into an elderly lady, skips 
hastily back up to the sidewalk so as not to be run over, and resumes 
running.

Spleen finishes his espresso and appears satisfied that he will no 
longer cease to exist. He pulls out a spiral-bound notebook and opens 
it, flipping thru the pages idly.

Mike isn't paying much attention to anything, really - until his gaze 
falls on Stardancer. He stares at her, not breaking stride, and 
temporarily oblivious to anyone in his path.

StarDancer sees Mike's expression, and adopts an expression of pure 
mischief.

StarDancer does a "blowing a kiss" gesture and autofires a stream of 
candy-apple red lip-prints in Mike's direction.

Spleen starts glancing around, and (like everyone else :) notices 
StarDancer. After a pause, he pulls a pencil from somewhere inside his 
jacket and starts scribbling in his notepad.

Mike ducks reflexively, misses his stride, trips and hits the floor 
rather hard. Good job he wasn't running any faster, really.

StarDancer grins, and the lip-prints curve around to collide with Mike, 
making little kissing sounds and leaving imprints on his outfit.

Spleen blinks and peers over his notepad as Mike takes a header. With a 
shrug he goes to see if the other guy was hurt. "Jogging'll kill ya," 
he remarks, kneeling at Mike's side.

Mike groans. "I know," he says, and pushes himself to hands and knees. 
"Should have gone to the park...ow."

StarDancer flies over to Mike, (while the lip-prints on his clothes 
vanish) and says, "uhhhh, I'm like sorry I like made you fall or 
somethin."

Spleen tugs at Mike's arm, assisting him to his feet; leaving his open 
sketchbook on the ground, his rough drawings of StarDancer visible. 
"Jogging in the Park'sch no better," he says. "Thosche rollerbladersch 
are ruthlessch."

Mike winces slightly. "Yeah, they are. But they're easy to knock over." 
He looks at Stardancer and backs off slightly. "Um, no problem. I fall 
over all by myself often enough."

StarDancer sighs as Mike reacts like most people do to her sudden 
arrival, "uhhhh, you sure you aren't like hurt or anything?"

Mike shakes his head and backs away another step. "No, really. I 
bounce."

Spleen peers at Mike. "He *could* have a concusschion..." he muses.

StarDancer droops a bit and starts to fly away.

Mike blinks at Spleen. "I'm fine," he says. He looks after Stardancer 
and sighs. "Hey, wait - I didn't mean to upset you. Come back." He 
doesn't sound entirely convinced that this is a good idea.

StarDancer turns and looks back at Mike, "you don mean it."

Spleen looks at Mike, "You *schure* you didn't hit your head?"

Mike hisses to Spleen, "Shut up, look, she's upset." He shrugs 
helplessly to Stardancer. "Well - you startled me."

StarDancer relaxes a little and comes down.

StarDancer shrugs and says to Spleen, "like if he'd hit his head he'd 
prolly be bleedin all over the place."

Spleen retrieves his sketchbook, then. "Guessch that'sch true enough," 
he concedes. "And you," he adresses StarDancer, "You okay, too?"

StarDancer folds her arms and frowns at Spleen, "wellll, it's not like 
*I'm* the 1 here with cuts 'n bruises."

Mike shifts his weight uneasily, looking Stardancer over. He glances at 
Spleen and catches a glimpse of the sketchbook. "Oh, hey, you drew her. 
Those are good. And I'm *fine*, trust me."

StarDancer looks at Mike and says, "I still think ya otta get cleaned 
up, I mean like ya never know what mite a gotten inta those cuts."

Mike looks at his hands - the worst-hit. "I'll clean them up when I get 
home. Really. I'm okay."

Spleen glances between the two and shrugs. "Well asch long asch 
noone'sch got the plague how bad can it be?"

Mike looks at Spleen's sketchbook again and holds out a hand. "Can I 
see that?" Honest curiosity.

Spleen pauses, taken offgaurd. "What for?"

Mike shrugs, amused. "Just to see. Can I?"

(Holo) A mirror appears, angled so that SD can see Spleen's sketches 
(assuming the book's open).

Spleen frowns, suspicious, then, after closing the book, hands it over.

Mike takes the book and flips through it (incidentally, his hands are 
far from clean). He taps one of the sketches of Stardancer. "You just 
did these? Just now?"

Spleen watches Mike curiously. "Er, yeah," he responds.

StarDancer's lip curls at Mike, "you rilly sh'dn be messin with his 
book, you're gonna mess it up."

Spleen shrugs. "He can't messch it up," he says.

Mike blinks at Stardancer and looks down in sudden dismay. "Oh, jeez, 
she's right." He regards a smear of combined blood and dirt. "Look at 
that." He doesn't seem to have noticed Spleen's comment. "I'm really 
sorry."

StarDancer folds her arms and pouts at Spleen, "you do good work, so ya 
otta take care a it."

Mike says, "Hey, no, that was my fault." He holds the book out to 
Spleen.

Spleen takes the book back, completely unconcerned. "No, you really 
can't messch it up," he insists. "It'sch juscht doodlesch."

Mike stares. "Doodles? What's a sketch, then, the Mona Lisa?"

Spleen rolls his eyes. "Hardly," he says.

StarDancer frowns at Mike, "anyway, you need ta get cleaned up."

(Holo) There's a roaring sound, and this thing like a white weather 
balloon, or beach ball with delusions of grandeur starts to come 
bouncing down the street.

Mike looks at Stardancer, worried by her expression. "I fall over a 
lot," he insists. "I'll be all right..." he trails off and just gapes.

Spleen blinks. "Isch this a parade route?"

(Holo) The rover (for those of you who remember the village) does a few 
bounces, then arcs high and explodes with a loud *POP*!

Mike cringes at the loud noise, and blinks at the space where the rover 
used to be. "Um," he comments.

Spleen staggers backwards a bit.

Mike mutters something about Wisconsin. As he often does.

Spleen stands there for a bit, giving the city a chance to do something 
else. When nothing happens he shrugs. "Guessch tha floorschow'sch 
over."

Mike straightens up and nods to Spleen. "Guess so. This city is nuts."

Spleen shrugs. He's used to it. "Well, schee you around. And cut back 
on that jogging schtuff." He turns and heads down the street.

Mike blinks after Spleen. "Uh, yeah. Maybe I will. Thanks."