<div align="center"><br/>(http://i.imgur.com/cjcZ6tp.jpg)<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Morgan Cohen</span><br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;">The Gamer Nerd</span></div><br/>Morgan saw the crest of the hill approaching and rose out of the saddle, her toned legs pumping quickly as she sprinted the final stretch up the hill, her bike rocking gently underneath her. As she reached the crest of the slope, she took a moment to relax, her heart racing. She'd made good time, she noticed, glancing down at the small computer clamped to her handlebars which tracked her heart rate, cadence, speed, and overall time. That was good. Now she'd reached the fun part, and so she leaned forward, dropping to the lower handlebars and shifting into high gear to see just how fast she could go on the downhill towards the campus.<br/><br/>Downhills are exhilarating. Nothing stands in the way of a cyclist and top speed on a downhill. Morgan was great at them, and had practiced holding her body to minimize drag while still enabling her to pedal on her bike's specially modified high gears. She'd hit 100km/h a few times, a truly unsafe speed on any bike, but today she was a little more moderate, conscious of the motorists around her and the pack on her back. Still, she found herself passing a few cars on the way into campus. When she stepped off her bike in front of the dorm, she realized how hard she'd worked, and decided to go in and take a shower. Her father would be meeting her after lunch to help her move in her actual things, but she'd decided to bike to campus first and get some lunch in the dining hall.<br/><br/>She left her bike in her room (a spacious single) and took a change of clothes out of her backpack before heading to the bathroom and quickly showering off. Tying her wet light brown hair up in an unruly knot, she slipped on the plain white t-shirt and red shorts before heading to eat. She grabbed a sandwich and some salad, and sat down next to a girl who seemed absorbed in her book. As she ate, she flipped through a printout covered in what seemed like random strings of numbers and letters, occasionally making a mark or drawing a line with a pencil. The arcane printouts were lists of memory locations, and Morgan was trying to figure out ways to make the game (for they were derived from the code of a game) load bits it wasn't supposed to in places you ordinarily couldn't. Memory manipulation usually cut the length of a speedrun, even of a modern game, to mere minutes, and she was excited to be finally involved in the routing of a game (she'd been running for years, but had never had the technical know-how to do more than use tricks other people had found. All those computer science courses were finally paying off).<br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br/><br/><strong>Location::.</strong> Dining hall || <strong>Talking To::.</strong> Nobody || <strong>Feeling::.</strong> Good || <strong>Wearing::.</strong> T-shirt and shorts<br/></span></div>