Walter Garrick's Questionnaire

Walter runs through the streets of Kansas City, Missouri, to a huge apartment building, Century Tower Apartments. He runs up the stairs, refusing to take the stairs despite the burning in his legs. The lactic acids are setting in by the time he opens the door to his apartment. The furnishings are red and yellow, there are bookshelves, a treadmill, an exercise bike, and a wall-mounted television. Taking a rare moment to down a glass of cold ice water before pushing himself to get on the treadmill set in front of the TV and turning it on to binge another sci-fi show. Later, he pulls a forensic science textbook off of one of his two bookshelves and gets on the exercise bike and starts to read as he continues his near-constant exercise regimen. After eating, he passes out, exhausted, and remembers in his dreams his hometown of Centerville, Iowa, and coming to Kansas City to study criminology, biology, and chemistry at the University of Missouri-Kansas City.

Walter isn't even sweating as he runs up to the front door of the police department precinct in downtown Kansas City. He jogs through the offices until he reaches the forensic science labs, not even breathing irregularly. He is either moving or munching, and always drinking water. Junk food is his vice, but his metabolism is high enough that it barely matters. The results of a life dedicated to movement. At his home are two full-height bookshelves, one filled with science fiction novels, the other with science textbooks; criminology, biology, chemistry. One of the other technicians mentions that this coming weekend is bar trivia night; they go every week, but he only attends once, maybe twice a month. He can't keep moving there, so he only affords it once in a while as a result. To be honest, he'd rather be reading or watching streams while on his treadmill or Peloton bike.

Every day, nearly every waking moment, his body must remain moving. Begging for speed, hungering for just a little more of it. He will be the fastest man alive, Usain Bolt; watch your back. Atalanta let herself get distracted, but Walter will not falter. He runs at any moment he can. Work makes him tense, can't run in the lab. When he streams sci-fi shows and educational shows, he's on the treadmill; when he reads, he's on the bike. His legs move on their own when he would normally stand still. He will run until he drops, then he will awaken and run again, until his heart says, "no." Even then, once it rests, he's moving again. One day he will challenge anyone he can to a foot race, but death is unnecessary, besides they should live to know they were beaten.

Pouring down rain, feet hit the paved track for hours. Thunder cracks almost simultaneously with lightning illuminating everything like it's daylight for instants. Still, he runs, rain and sweat blend, breathing heavy but persevering nonetheless. Thunder cracks so fast he can't begin to count after seeing lightning, the track field is as open as it gets. He knows he should not be out, but he must train. Suddenly, the lightning flashed so bright it might have hurt his eyes had his body not lit up with searing pain; his electronics were fried in an instant. He never even heard the thunder crack as all the metal melted to his skin. He woke up in the hospital, Lichtenburg scars covering his body. As he recovered in physical therapy, he learned that he moved faster, both legs and arms alike, and somehow, he was resistant to injury. Not long after, he learns he can harness the lightning that enhanced him and grant the same to others.

It's bar trivia night, and Walter is sitting at the table with a few work buddies. Peter Lensherr, the only detective on the force who fires at the range from the hip and still qualifies, with high marks no less. Likes speed as much as Walter, but focuses on reaction time, loves clear liquor. His platinum blond hair is almost certainly a thorough bleaching job. Sometimes they run together. Walter certainly beats him every time, but he gives it his all and makes him work for it. Less welcome is Edward Dhawan, another technician like Walter. He tries to sabotage Walter, but he's too subtle, too sneaky to get caught. He's also more active in social networking at work, so there's nothing Walter can do. Walter thinks of how he can wipe that smug grin from Edward's face, but turns to look at the other colleagues when he gets a phone call. It's his cousin Jessica Wells, nothing here is that important that he feels a need to hit ignore that. He excuses himself to take the call...