Hi all,
I am in need of motivation to exercise. I'm going to sign up for a virtual "Race-at-your-own-pace," with a Hades theme. You take as much time as you want to complete a certain number of miles, either by run, walk, or bike, and log your distance. Once you accumulate 36.1 miles, you get your 'reward' which in this case is a kick-butt Hades-theme medal and shirt (priced separately). International orders are allowed for a small fee. 

I thought it might be fun if someone wanted to join me. We could start on the same date and root each other on. Maybe try to get it all done before Jan 1? 

here is the link. Check it out and post here if anyone is interested.

The offices that filled the interior of the Kremlin’s executive building were busy as usual. Nikolai was a regular sight on a daily basis, and his presence made little stir beyond the trailing eyes of employees and salutes of military or security officers. Everyone was immaculately dressed: even the humblest of workers wore uniform or business professional suits. The standard elevated the entire department, and those working in the Executive Office of the Ascendancy were compensated handsomely for their station. It was a privilege to work there.

Business with his Deputy-Consul Chief of Staff, Viktor Stepanovich concluded, and the man splintered his direction away from the Ascendancy just as the latter turned to enter the wing devoted to government engagement, propaganda, and interdominance relations.

He passed the worker stationed near the entrance desk with a polite smile and quick inquiry into the state of her new puppy, pleading that she bring the animal for a visit sometime. Nikolai loved dogs, the greater and grander the better, but this life did not seem to allow the luxury of a pet. She promised to do so soon, and Nik proceeded through the wing to the executive offices in the back. 

He continued the charming intrusion along the way, gesturing or politely greeting those who caught his eye. He seemed to be able to remember everyone by name and include some small insight into their lives. Finally, he stopped, “Is Aleksandrova in?” he asked.

There was nothing comfortable about Moscow.  Even her apartment was not comfortable -- not yet.  She needed a garage to work in.  Her lab.  Her comfort zone.

Ilesha had been looking for a while. But hadn't found anything suitable until today.  There was an old garage that hadn't so much as gone under as the old man running didn't have anyone to take over so he had no choice but to close down when he got too old to run the shop.  It was perfect.

It had two garage doors on either side of the building that could hold four medium sized cars in total, and a small office.  Each stall had a car lift.  She worked predominately on motorcycles for herself, but she was an excellent mechanic all around.  And she didn't intend to have a large client base.  

Though the old man had also sold her his old clients.  She doubted they'd come her way, but she'd give it ago.

Ilesha couldn't wait to get the garage open.  It needed some repair, and she had to get the needed equipment.  And her bikes sent here from the US.  That was her next goal.  This shop was perfect.

She couldn't get over the luck she was having.  But cleaning was a bore, she started humming to herself and started a light weave of air started sweeping the floor with the power.  It was an amazing feeling -- the power and her own space.

“Dearest Natalie, you won’t even know I’m here.” Dark eyes glittered in the face of the woman opposite, deep as onyx stones. Shadows swathed her features, claiming all but the sharpness of a smile gleaming by the lights smeared beyond the windows. The car wove slowly through city centre traffic, and Natalie’s gaze slid to watch the progress of their lazy crawl. Toma was her family’s investment, and she supposed she didn’t begrudge the assurance in order to keep her mother happy. As far as bodyguards went, it could have been worse.

“If you were not informed of my recent history, I’m sure you’ve already done your homework,” she said eventually. A smirk touched her lips, but did not much soften the arid tone. “I don’t promise to behave.” 

Toma only laughed.

In a fight to the death, who would win:

John Wick vs James Bond.

Let the debating commence. Who do you pick and why.

I'll post another cage match after this one is settled.

Moving out had been the best thing Cruz could have done. He was nineteen after all, he could do this. Most kids did this when they went to college -- they stayed in dorm or frat houses or had their own places. Some, stayed home. He'd been part of that, and since moving out he'd made new friends. Not that Nox and Sage didn't bring a great deal of friendship to the table, but neither of them were really interested in him. Nox was being paid, and Sage was only there because of Nox's sister -- though that wasn't the complete truth. They lived such drama filled lives.

But now Cruz was out on his own. He had his own life and was making new friends. Gordey and Felix weren't exactly friend, but they did like to study together -- mostly because Cruz helped them with the harder things. But they loved to code or hack their way through things. They were Computer Science majors and they made fun of Cruz when he said he was only minoring in Computer Science. His major was much more complex than just programming -- Computer Engineering was the bread and butter of his courses, but he also minored in medicine and human biology and he was even planning on taking a few courses in psych. His ultimate goal was to map the human body through Aurora's holographic computer interface. He had a grim prototype of it up and running. At least of medical scans and the like. Cruz wanted to have a 3D holographic image of the body. He had plans, and tons of lines of code in his head. Seeing the tumor and practicing on it before you ever touch the real thing... epic.

Gordey and Felix didn't see down the line. They just wanted to get from one class to the next and get out from under their parents noses. They didn't live at home, but they had been spending more and more of their time crashing on Cruz' couch. The three of them were becoming fast friends at Cruz's expense -- not that he minded. They bought food -- they ate a lot of food. They drank more than they ate. And wine wasn't their thing. They forayed into various other recreational drugs. And to the point they stood now, he's refused their offers, but it was becoming increasingly harder and harder with each refusal. What would it harm?

"Come on, Cruz." Felix yelled from the door. "You don't have to worry you look great. And the money will attract the ladies more than the duds, so let's move it."

Cruz rolled his eyes. Felix insisted people knew he had money just from the way he dressed and the way he moved or spoke. Maybe he was right. Cruz had been trying to fit in, and never really did. He took tips from what he knew of Nox and Sage. Felix and Gordey dressed like slops unless they were going out. Even Nox's ratty hoodie looed better than these two. A pair of dark blue jeans, a stole sarcastic shirt from Nox's room from days gone past, it read If you don't want a stupid answer don't ask a stupid question. Cruz didn't remember why he had taken he shirt, but it was one of his favorites when he was trying to be a typical college kid.

Cruz pulled on a leather jacket that didn't scream I have money or I'm a lofty rich kid unless you looked at the name on the tag -- or you knew the jacket by it's design. But few kids at Moscow University knew the names of the labels Cruz owned.

"Fine. I'm ready. Let's go." Cruz didn't wait for them to drag him out the door like usual. Today he went willingly. A club -- he had no idea where. He didn't care. Tonight was all about getting smashed after a long run of finals.

Heya! Anyone want to RP with the new dancer at Kallisti? I have nothing in particular I want to go for right now, so I'm open to ideas or anything.