The coarse for the foot race was clearly labeled in the field near the Circle.
Leo was sitting in the sunlight by the start. It was a nice day, and Leo was glad to be outside.
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The coarse for the foot race was clearly labeled in the field near the Circle.
Leo was sitting in the sunlight by the start. It was a nice day, and Leo was glad to be outside.
Rules for this event can be found here.
Asp made her way out in her running shoes, yoga pants and tank top, her trusty Evian bottle held loosely in her right hand even as her aviators dangled in her left. She squinted in the sun, waving to Leo. "How are ya, sir?" she asked quietly once she was close by, pleased to greet the First Talon. They hadn't had much of a chance to talk, really.
Not that this was time for a chit-chat, but it would be good to hear from him one of these days.
First time it was skirts, now its yoga pants. Vincent ponders as he walks over to racing field. He throws out a wave and "Hey." to all gathered and proceeds to stretch. Tragically he does not look as good as Asp when he does.
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Orpheus arrives at the track and smiles politely at the others. Like the others he gives a light stretch a try.
Geist switches out his blazer, dress shirt, and dress pants for a white sleeveless top and breathing turquoise shorts. Comfy as fuck.
He proceeds to Leo with the folded dress clothes in a neat square with as cheery a smile as he is able to plaster on his snaggled chompers. "Hey, Leo. I wanted to ask about where to put some things while I'm running." The Moros leans in to speak privately. "I uh, brought some personal protection, smartphone, and wallet to the Field day with me. There a place to stuff it so it doesn't get stolen while I'm out there?"
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Striker follows the others out to where the foot race will be. He considers running in his boots as he sometimes has to on the streets, but once he sees the field decides that barefoot won't be painful and might be that tiny bit quicker. He loses his boots and leather jacket and checks out the competition while limbering up without being to obvious about it.
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He'd peeled off his outer shirt. Look at those guns. It was his only concession.
Most of the time he found himself running? He was dressed 'normal'. So might as well Keep It Real, right?
He aimed himself in Asp's direction, but veered off when it was clear she was going to go talk to someone. Then something else got his attention.
wow
"So, uh, how long did that take to learn how to do?" he asked the one-armed man taking off his jacket and boots with one arm.
Totally. Not. Staring.
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As Striker dropped his jacket over his boots he noticed the skinny looking fella who had approached the group. Is he lookin' at me? Striker wondered. He'd just started loosening up when the new guy asked him how long it took him to learn. Striker was confused, he didn't think he'd done anything impressive recently. He cocked his head to the side a little before asking "Ahh, learn what mate? Name's Striker by the way." He extended his arm for a handshake.
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"Hey. I'm, uh, Cut."
Still didn't quite flow. Honestly? He still liked 'Shuffle' better. He took the offered hand, offering up a silent prayer that the guy wouldn't crush his.
"Nice ta meet'cha. Learn, uh, you know. You know. How to do stuff."
He couldn't quite say it. Weird, since it was like, all out there. Not a Secret.
"Unless you've always, ummm. Or it's recent."
Well, this was going swimmingly.
Side stroke.
Good thing he was Ready To Run, right?
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