[centre][color=00aeef][h1][i][b]Arthur Seymour[/b][/i][/h1][/color]
Interacting: No one directly.[/centre]

[color=gray]It seemed to Arthur that reception to their trainers was mixed, some feeling lucky with who had been chosen to tutor them and others less than happy about who they were stuck with. He himself had no strong feelings about his own trainer, an impassive man who didn't appear to have any particularly noticeable character traits beyond being Russian.  Most residents, and tutors, appeared to be from the States as far as he had seen so far.  Arthur wondered how he had become infected, seeing as at least most of the others were from the same continent even if they were still from far across it.

Shaking away his thoughts, they were of no use without more information to make useful deductions, he made his way to the kitchen and quickly brewed himself a cup of tea.  Grabbing some biscuits on the way out he took a seat at one of the tables and ate the biscuits in between taking sips from his still scalding hot tea.  He was lost in thought as others arrived to view the snacks available from the vending machines, considering everything that happened so far.  So far they knew very little, although everything that the researchers had said seemed logical, at least on the basis that the core issue was valid: that they had powers caused by an infectious illness.

He took another sip, locking his worries away for now.  They still knew so little and he had yet to get a proper read on those who ran the facility.  Suspecting that his own tutor would continue to be as impassive as he had been so far, Arthur cast his eyes over the other residents, wondering how he could gather information without alerting the researchers.  If they were honest then all was fine and they had nothing to fear.

If they were lying to them then that begged the question: what and why were they doing? And how could they make it out?

With a sigh, he realised that it was coming up on time to return and he pushed himself to his feet, swallowing the last of his tea and popping the final piece of biscuit into his mouth.  After returning the crockery to the kitchen he walked back in the direction of the auditorium and the private session rooms, nodding at the other residents as he passed, too consumed by his thoughts to enter into much conversation for now.

Upon returning to the room his tutor, still nameless to him, nodded towards the treadmill and held up a fistful of electrodes.  Arthur let the man place them across his body and then stood onto the machine.  He started on a low setting worked his way up, letting his body warm up as the muscles got used to the strain he was putting them under; he was in good shape but his days as an athlete were long gone and he exercised less than half the amount he used to.

The tutor occasionally changed settings on the treadmill, adjusting the speed up or down as well as the elevation and taking notes on whatever he saw on his computer screen, presumably displaying feedback from the electrodes on Arthur's body.  After a good twenty minutes the tutor signalled for Arthur to slow his pace down and climb off the treadmill before nodding his head at one of the weight machines.

They carried on this like for roughly half of the machines in the small room before, finally, the tutor put down his clipboard and pen, signalling for Arthur to stop but made no suggestion that he should move onto another task.[/color]

"That's it for today, Arthur.  Tomorrow we will use the other machines and then we will start from the beginning the day after.  Your body needs strength to fight this illness, to control it.  You are not in poor shape but you can be better. Go and relax now, you are free until this evening."

[color=gray]Arthur nodded, exhausted, and walked out of the room feeling as if his body was ready to fall into a puddle at any moment.  Sure, he'd been running and to the gym in recent months but nothing like that full workout.  He had a sense that, at least with his tutor, it wasn't just about measuring his vitals and keeping him fit; the end goal was to make Arthur as fit as he could possibly be to maximise his chances of beating the ailment afflicting him.  At least, that was the story the tutor was giving him.

Making it to his room, Arthur stripped off his sweat soaked clothes and then stood under a maximum temperature shower, letting the scalding hot water roll off his head and shoulders, soothing his muscles screaming out for relief.  Reluctantly, he left the shower and changed into clean clothes, before noticing there was a folder on his desk that hadn't been there before.

Curious, he approached the desk and opened the folder carefully, seeing a stack of papers inside.  Instantly his eyes were drawn to the logo at the top left, the insignia of the university he lectured at, and pulled the pile of papers out and cast his eyes down the paperwork submission form.  There was a sticky note attached to the top paper and he pulled it off, reading the words written large on it.

[i]Apparently they insisted you mark their work as usual - we'll collect it from your room when you're done![/i]

With a small smile, Arthur scooped up the paperwork and grabbed a small container off his desk before heading from his room to the lounge area.  He liked to be somewhere more open when he marked work, rather than cooped up in an office and that was the same here, his room felt too isolated and confined.

Pushing his way into the lounge he glanced around the luxurious room before his eyes fell on a fully stocked bar.  Leaving the file on a table he circled round to the other side of the bar and found a kettle and an all singing all dancing coffee maker and made himself a quick brew before returning to his chosen table and sitting down with a sigh, looking at the pile before him.

Despite everything, this small piece of normality was reassuring and, after a moment's contemplation, he leaned forwards and opened the folder, pulling out the first paper and turning the top page over.[/color]