<div class="floatleft">(http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x0qA5RDeTuU/TC8AuWK5sSI/AAAAAAAAAX8/EZFU5m85GKA/s1600/2009_Undisputed_3_18.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Alexei Mikhalev (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12408256#msg12408256)<br/><strong>City | Date | Time:</strong>San Francisco / August 5th, 2017 / 7:30 AM<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>Dhavali Tucker (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=250173.msg12369964#msg12369964), Open<br/><strong>Content:</strong>N/A<br/><hr/>Most people didn't like being up so early in the morning. For a night owl, the only good thing to do when seeing the number six and the letters AM at the same time on anything resembling a clock meant it was time to turn the phone back off and sleep for another... eternity. And Alexei couldn't blame them. As a man who's job description was staying up until all hours of the day, mornings were meant to be slept on. But today was different. He had gone to bed at a reasonable hour the night before, having had no work to speak of, and this morning, he was up and about as the clock in his little motel room struck 6:15. having the ability to sleep at any time and wake up six to eight hours later feeling refreshed and rested wasn't something that could be learned, but it could be honed, and nothing was better at honing one's ability to control one's own body clock than staying at a work camp for three years, where one was subjected to harsh physical labor from when the sun came up to when the sun went down.<br/><br/>By 6:30, he was already outside wearing a plain white tank top and light running pants and shoes. A quick warming up had him jogging. He didn't like doing his exercises in the middle of the day, although he was usually deprived of a choice. His afternoons and evenings were generally consumed by work, and he didn't like working out in the oppressive heat of the midday sun. So when he had time to do it in the morning, he was thankful. Jogging, some spurts of sprinting, which he was able now to hold for over a minute, some light freerunning when he passed by some appropriate area. The city was just beginning to fill up with people heading to work, leaning on their horns like their lives depended on it and cussing each other out. There were already the sounds of sirens wailing around the city, but Alexei ignored them all. The city was his playground, and the people in it were... well, background noise, for the most part, but still there, which was why he avoided using his abilities during his run. San Francisco had the largest variety of people that he had ever seen, so many interesting stories, backgrounds, talents and viewpoints on the world. But for the most part, they ignored the well-built man with scary scars and tattoos and the almost decent grasp of the English Language. Listening was what he did best though. You learns a lot more from listening than from flapping your jaw, after all.<br/><br/>Arriving at the beach after about an hour, Alexei paused in his run, breathing heavily and taking a long sip of water from the nearby water fountain. The beach was still comparatively empty at this time of day, with the occasional jogger, early bird yoga class and a couple or two walking near the water. There was a peacefulness to silence. Deep thoughts came from it, and great books and songs were written under its influence.<br/><br/>Not by him, of course, but he could still appreciate the concept without sharing in all the... well geniusness. He was a city boy. Cars and motorcycles were his version of the babbling brook and soothing sound of the waves, Sirens and horns his version of crickets chirping.<br/><br/>He pulled his tank top over his head and laid it over a nearby bench before stretching his tired legs and warming his arms up. Taking deep breaths, he walked over to the crossbar that was near the fountain and with a smooth jump straight up, he grabbed the smooth bar and pulled himself up quickly, letting his chin up over the bar and then back down again, in quick repetitions. As quickly as he could, he kept going until he could feel his back and arms burning with exertion, heavy beads of sweat rolling down his bare, taut shoulders and tense biceps. He kept going until he felt a sickening weakness filling his muscles and he considered giving himself a few minutes' rest.