<div class="floatleft">(http://i241.photobucket.com/albums/ff7/HaruTokushima/Realistic%20Chars/Jason/ac54c91f-2261-47c2-8595-212b1550f897_zps5811df8b.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Jason Garder<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Street outside Parker Commons<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Martina, open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>Curious about what the flyers are for<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Running shorts, light jacket<br/><hr/><br/>His feet propelled him forward along the sidewalk and past the passersby. His ears drowned out everything around him. He didn't need music; his breathing created the rhythm, and the endorphins provided the motivation, but Jason didn't quite reach that high this morning. Duty awaited him later this afternoon, so he had to take it easy--a challenge sometimes. He craved the feeling of his legs turning to jello, of the physical exhaustion, something to tell him that he pushed his limits, that he was improving. Maybe it would come tomorrow, when he had a day of "rest." Until then, the few miles he jogged satisfied him enough.<br/><br/>Jason was on his apartment's block now, but he planned to keep going until he reached the building's doors, with "planned" being the keyword. Several yards down the sidewalk, he spotted a woman handing out flyers, something with lines of text, and he thought he might have seen a little color. Briefly, he examined the woman next. The flyers couldn't have been about a lost pet; the smile said otherwise, and the way she held herself might suggest confidence. She was promoting something.<br/><br/>He slowed to a stop, still a distance away, and wiped at his brow where sweat had beaded. Maybe it wasn't anything worthwhile. He could continue past her and on his way. On the other hand, he did want to involve himself in the community more, try to do something purely for fun or for the social aspect. Ever since his senior year of high school, he hadn't had a whole lot of that. Most of his fun held an extra benefit, something to keep him active or improve necessary skills. Going to the occasional sports game had been, just about, the only exception. Since he moved into Parker Commons about a month ago, he intended to change that, with only a little success so far, usually becoming bored of something within a few minutes because it wasn't productive.<br/><br/>Ultimately, none of this excused passing up a potential opportunity for something different. Jason walked toward her.<strong>"Excuse me."</strong>His voice possessed a natural strength, a baritone that slipped smoothly between his lips without being too loud or too soft. When he had her attention, he offered a smile as a way to combat his reserved expressions and continued:<strong>"Hey, can I ask what this is about?"</strong>Although, this was more of a request than a question. As he awaited an answer, his gaze fell from her face and toward the flyers, prepared to accept or deny one, depending on what it was.