[center][h2][color=indianred]Maxwell Thomas[/color][/h2]
[sup][i]Location: Chicago, Millennium Park[/i][/sup][/center]

It was a lovely spring day in Chicago, and as was his habit, Maxwell was up early to go running.  He'd had a cup of coffee and a light breakfast, then walked the few blocks to the train station to take it out to Millennium Park.  He didn't always go to the park to run, but he liked to when he had the chance.  There were numerous paths through the park and the adjacent parks, enough that he could run for an hour or so while enjoying the scenery.

He was just settling into a good rhythm when a man with -- was that a spear?! -- charged at him.  At first Max didn't realize the man was heading for him.  But their gazes locked, and at that point there could be no mistaking it.  "I think you've got the wrong person!" he cried, frantic and more than a little frightened.  The other guy just bared his teeth in aggressive expression, and lunged spear-first at Max.  It was all he could do to dodge.  The second attack came just as quickly, but this time Max was more focused, and actually tried grabbing the haft of the spear to disarm his opponent.

That was a mistake.  The moment he touched the weapon, pain swept through his body.  It was overwhelming, like he was on fire.  He fell to his knees, hard, and then blacked out -- or thought he did, at least.  Certainly everything went dark.

[i]"Maxwell."[/i]  The voice was warm.  Kind.  Safe.  [i]"You must listen to me.  I am Hestia, and you are my successor.  I'm sorry to spring this upon you so suddenly, but I do not have a choice.  The Titans seek to escape Tartarus and reclaim the earth.  You must use the weapons I grant you to survive, and find the other successors.  Trust your intuition."[/i]

And suddenly he was lying on the ground back in the park, only now he held a solid wooden staff.  The pain was gone, at least for the moment, but his attacker was bearing down on him, spear leading.  Maxwell had no time to figure out what exactly was happening.  He rolled away and to his feet, and then took off running.  The staff was only a hindrance at the moment, but some instinct triggered, and suddenly it was no longer in his hand -- but neither had it fallen to the ground.  [i]What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?![/i]  Max didn't worry about it too much.  The spear-wielding man was still on his tail, and showed no sign of giving up.