As the hive is to the bee and the dam is to the beaver, so is the bike path to the crust punk. It's easy to find the main bike path, but though you probably have less money in your coat than most of these kids, your new clothes mark you out. You bounce from group to group, trying to act casual and strike up conversations, but the crust punks are sullen and hostile. You have no more luck at the park next to the bus stop, or the steps of the vape shop next to the old church, and you're starting to feel like someone is watching you. Is that monster back? You scan the rooftops, but nothing is up there.
Finally, you spot an old hippie with animal liberation and vegan anarchism buttons on his ragged coat down at the skatepark. The hippie tells you to fuck off, but the only kid skating in this horrible weather witnesses your conversation. They mention someone named Roscoe, who puts on punk and metal shows. The kid hasn't seen Roscoe in a while, but they tell you that the last time they saw him, he was bumming money outside of a place called GRC Media.
You follow the kid's directions and find yourself in the parking lot of some kind of environmental advocacy group.
Next