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On this particular evening in the streets of Ashdown’s city center, the well-advertised First Friday event unfolded quietly. The weather is pleasant but cool, and an evening breeze keeps many residents still wearing light jackets and sweaters despite the date.

A slow trickle of artists and street performers have started to set up, searching for prime sidewalk space or nice stretches of grass to display their work. There are handmade goods displayed in small booths, blankets covered in artisan jewelry, and everything from custom stained glass to watercolors lining the streets. The social-media-savvy wander with cameras and phones, snapping pictures and recording videos of street-corner drummers, dancers, jugglers, and spray-paint artists whipping up fantastical scenes with only a piece of cardboard and brush splatter.

The food carts are out in force, and cafes and bakeries are staying open late in hopes of roping in as much foot traffic as they can with samples and drinks. The art galleries and salons are also open, even some that are normally appointment-only venues, and guests are free to peruse their collections; perhaps while snacking on some complimentary wine and cheese.

One whole corner of a particular intersection has been taken over by a motley assemblage of musicians, who have turned it into an informal jam session. All are welcome to join!

The small art festival is free-form, open-air, and a straight-up good time for friends, fun, art, and (most importantly) free samples. Ashdown's collective talent, when given a chance, puts on a good show.

Shun was... curious to say in the least what this was all about. He hadn't really attended any similar events back in New York City. A little crowded for his liking, but there were some interesting sights and sounds here in the least. Even he could appreciate artistic talent.

After a bit of wandering around, he paused by one vendor who seemed to be selling custom guitar picks and straps. The straps were... a bit much, but some of the picks looked nice at least. It didn't hurt to get an extra or two. He has lost some in the past.

And so he was taking some time, looking them over.

Shun looked up as he heard a familiar voice.

"Who the ******** is Daisy?" he deadpanned. He was not going to acknowledge that name for his guitar. His guitar did not have a name.

"My guitar is not a flower," he stated, keeping that flat tone of voice. To Chel's question, he shook his head.

"Do I look like I am on duty?" he asked. If Chel was expecting him to be nice... she might be talking to the wrong person. In any case, Shun was not wearing his detective attire. Letting out a breath, he turned back to the little display of picks, mulling over which one he wanted. There was a nice black and gold one there. Hm.

"Well if I were, I would not tell you now, would I?" Shun replied, "And you would have just blown my cover for that matter."

He huffed.

"Luckily for you, I am not."

And then Chel wanted to buy the pick he had been eyeing. He looked back up at her. There was a light of both frustration and confusion in his eyes. As far as he knew, she didn't play. But he did recall her mentioning that Jack did. Maybe it was a gift for the tall guy. Grumbling quietly to himself, he just started to look for a second option while the vendor dealt with her to do the transaction.

Someone said something about some kind of an event in passing while he was at the pet store, and since he'd miraculously been scheduled to have his days off over the weekend it seemed a good time to go out and at least try to mingle. Try being the operative word; how successful he'd be would be dictated by fate...and perhaps his willingness to do more than stand around and watch for once. With Chubbs harnessed up and in tow, Rhys made his way over to where this event...First Friday or something...was happening.

Naturally, the first thing he and Chubbs noticed besides the crowd was the smell of food, so they gravitated toward a food truck that was serving up fancy grilled cheese sandwiches. He ticked it off as his first choice, but he wanted to see what the other food trucks had to offer, so he slowly moved from one to the other, with Chubbs whining a bit as they passed by the truck that served bratwursts and other sausages.

Suddenly he had the bag with the pick shoved into his chest. Which. Was still a little tender from being slashed up not that long ago. Shun grunted lowly before taking the bag as he stared down at Chel.

"What is this?" he asked. Obvious he knew the pick was in there, but he didn't really get why she was giving it to him of all people. He was a little confused.

"You wanted a date, you should have brought your girlfriend," he pointed out.

They were stopped by a boba truck when he heard someone say something about Chubbs being cute, so of course he turned to look and see who it was. The corners of his lips tugged up into the tiniest of smiles when his eyes landed on the corgi bouncing about, and its owners wasn't so bad either. "Thanks," he replied, eyes moving to Chubbs. The pup sat down and bowed his head a bit at her touch, tongue lolling and obviously enjoying the attention. He was well-trained and usually very well-behaved when in public, but if the woman kept on petting him he highly doubted she'd be able to get away anytime soon. Chubbs had a tendency to demand more and more and more attention once he started being given any...

"Yours, too," he said, though he wasn't so forward as to lean down to pet the other dog. Not because he didn't want to, but more because it stayed around its owner's ankles so whatever angle he approached from didn't seem appropriate. Last thing he needed was that kind of misunderstanding so soon after moving to a new place, and it seemed like one of those places where everyone knows everyone else. "Corgi, right? What's his name?"