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There is no point in waking up early. There is nothing productive to be doing in the morning. The only thing to get out of it is another hour of lying in bed, trying to get a bit more sleep before it's time to get up.

So why was Vanessa staring at the ceiling at six in the morning? She would have to get up to go to work anyway, but that was later in the day. She had the glorious night shift, and spent the entire evening up until midnight doing work. Obviously, by work, she meant doodling with the odd actual sketch, while just happening to sit behind the till and occasionally helping customers. Vanessa could afford to feed herself, so it was good enough.

She groaned, staring at the clock. 6:48am. Four minutes since she'd last checked, thirty since she'd woken up. She stroked the cat lying on her chest, waiting for time to pass. [color=b1aaee]"Please tell me you can knock me out,"[/color] she said mournfully. [color=b1aaee]"Just this once, I'll let you attack me. Do you wanna do that, you little bastard? Seems like you always do."[/color] Though her words were harsh, she spoke softly, in that cooing way people use with their pets. Unfortunately for her, her cat, which she had lovingly named 'Lizard', had chosen to be nice for the first day of his life. He let out a soft meow, and did not move. But he was soft, so Vanessa allowed it, continuing to run her hand down his soft black fur.

It was about six more clock-checks until she decided to finally get up. The time was 7:24am. With a little difficulty, she pushed Lizard from herself, rolling off of the bed until she was standing on the floor. Dressed in an oversized hoodie and some shorts, she began to get ready for the day. Vanessa supposed that she may as well go out, since there wasn't much for her to be doing inside. She could do some sketches and just chill in the community centre or something. Sounded like a good time.

It took her a lot longer than anticipated until she left the house. Somewhere in the realms of ninety minutes, as a matter of fact. She was dressed simply - black jacket, grey shirt, blue jeans - but all that time hadn't been wasted for nothing. She looked nice enough. A canvas bag containing some pencils and a sketchbook was hoisted over her shoulder, and it was about time she got going.

[color=b1aaee]"Bye bye, Lizard,"[/color] Vanessa chirped. The cat's ears perked at the sound of his name, but it wasn't as if he could understand anything she was saying. Still, she continued to talk. [color=b1aaee]"I'll be back later. Behave, and I love you!"[/color]

As she made her way to the community centre, she thought about what else she could do. She'd have to go home before work, but that still left a lot of the morning free. While it would be great for her to spend the whole time practising her art, Vanessa really didn't have the patience for that. She could go somewhere else, maybe.

[i][color=b1aaee]Ah, but isn't the press conference today... the disappearance of that girl.[/color][/i] Vanessa's brows furrowed as she walked, deep in thought. [i][color=b1aaee]I hope she's okay. But if anything's happened to her, it'll probably come out today. Should I go? I guess so.[/color][/i] She felt a little guilty, using the disappearance of this poor girl to sate her own curiosity, but it wasn't her fault the mayor's daughter had disappeared. She just wanted to know what was going on. She didn't know the girl very well, as she had not lived in Emerald city for very long, but she seemed lovely.

Vanessa was deep in thought on her way to the community centre. Much of it was just thinking about her plans for the rest of the day, as well as things she had to get done over the next week, but there was a little speculation mixed in. She was thinking about the things that could have happened to Lily Turner, of course, which quickly devolved into a competition with herself about what the most weird thing she could come up with was. Vanessa soon ended that line of thought, not wanting to give the matter any more attention. She'd find out soon enough, anyway.

The community centre was relatively close to where Vanessa lived, though her definition of close was 'acceptable to walk there', which was very, very broad. She made a beeline to the public garden. There was one specific place she sat every time she went to the gardens, and that place was where she decided to sit once more. She stretched her legs out over the grass, feeling it tickling her ankles. From her bag, she pulled out a thick sketchbook, half of the pages filled with pencil sketches. The quality varied, but none of them were particularly awful, even if Vanessa thought they were.

[color=b1aaee][i]Right then, art time.[/i][/color]