Lizzy’s hair was blowing everywhere on this blustery day as she exited the subway. Guitar on her back and some spare change in her pockets. Her recent guitar playing had acquired her about $30 for only a couple hours of playing. One man didn’t have any smaller bills, so he threw in a $20 bill. All things considered, it was a good day.

The night’s sky loomed over her and tens of pedestrians walking the street this late in the evening. One could hardly tell how late it was because of all the lights looming down from the businesses and buildings. Lizzy’s guitar strap was bothering her a little so she stepped out of the heart of traffic to stop and readjust it.

Looking at the red and navy strap, she realized why it was bothering her so much. It was twisted. Lizzy smiled to herself at the awkward strap and fixed there. “There. Much better,” she muttered to herself.

As she walked back into traffic she noticed what building she stopped against. It was a bar called The Night Box. Just standing outside the bar Lizzy could smell the cigarette smoke infiltrating the night’s air and the loud customers yelling at whatever basketball game was on.

She was trying to peer in to see what teams where playing instead of keeping her eyes on where she was going when WHAM. A stranger walking out of the bar holding a beer bottle ran straight into Lizzy.

Angry over his spilt beer, the man yelled, “HEY! Watch out where you’re going!”

Front all covered in his beer, Lizzy could only apologize, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Lizzy proceeded to walk a couple more buildings past before stepping aside to assess the damage. She looked down at her and saw white tank was drenched in beer and revealing her cami underneath. “Great. Just what I needed. And to think my day was going well.” It was not going to be a fun walk home.

Minerva was completely bushed. Work had been the same as always, except the day was far longer than necessary. Their latest project had to be presented tomorrow and her supervisor - daft as he was (he really shouldn't have been in charge, if you asked Minerva. Or.. anyone, for that matter) - had forced everyone to stay after dark. By then, all Minerva wanted was some decent food and to get herself home. She didn't really trust many people around New York - and anyone who knew what she was ought not trust her either. She was something most people probably didn't even believe in, so why should they trust her? Her friends had no idea, and Minerva had never met anyone like herself.

After picking up something for dinner, Minerva was walking back to her flat. Loud restaurants and bars were still open, practically throwing the sound out their doors and into the streets. It was odd, she mused, that she should be out this late at all. She almost never was. Yes, she was a bit of a night owl, but that was really the only time Minerva had to herself, so it was usually spent eating or relaxing at home. Honestly, Minerva had to travel so much for her job - going to events or meetings with the people she was creating commercials or merchandise for - that she didn't actually know many people in New York. All of her family remained in England, and while she visited at times, she rather liked the freedom of having to take care of herself. Backwards logic? Yeah, sort of. But it left so many options open to her.

As Minerva passed a couple bars, she saw some drunken git leave the one in front of her and smash right into someone. Poor girl was covered in the man's drink and looked pretty put out about it. The girl walked for a bit before pausing.

"Are you quite alright?" Minerva asked, slowing and pausing next to the girl. It often felt odd to talk to new people, because of her accent being rather odd for New York, as well as her naturally quiet personality. Strange, she had once noticed, because on paper or when the situation called for it, Minerva could be quite funny and improvise things surprisingly well. "I'm sure getting splashed by a drink from a bar wasn't your ideal ending to the night." Or maybe it was. She rather doubted it.