| |
Darkseeker
|
Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | 15 | Male | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
He wasn't really used to being told what to do or really anyone telling him what he was going to have to do. His lips were set in a straight line, while his arms were crossed against his chest in agitation. Marcus, per the usual was just getting on his nerves.
He leaned forward a bit, causing his board to jerk forward underneath them. "Consider me comforted..." He replied with what was more of a growl. A weak mention of not letting him get banged up. Wonderful. Marcus probably wouldn't have too much of a problem if Grayson got attacked while racing, but apparently these 340 points for his board meant enough that he'd just sign up Grayson for a race. Not that he couldn't win. He would win. He had to. It was that simple.
He glared briefly at his competition before setting his gaze in front. Sometimes ignoring the competition was the best idea. While the girl hooked her board to his he carefully set his feet in a better stance.
A small buzz initiated the countdown to the small race, there was only a few bystanders and one was handling the start. 3...2...1...
Grayson felt his board jolt underneath him as Liv moved forward. The other boarders weren't too close and he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. "When it comes up to the first turn, verge left. A couple of feet later there will be a very skinny road. Take it, it's a shortcut and hopefully they're dumb enough to follow. If they ever catch up to us though, even a foot off. Release the tow and please... throw me in the right direction."
He had an accident once when a tow boarder through him the wrong way. He had almost stopped in time, but another boarder had crashed into him and sent them both to the ground. Let's not do a repeat. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Marcus Kingston | 19 | M | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Liv heard the kid's instructions well enough, but didn't waste breath responding. Not when they had a race to win. She just nodded and let her board carry the both of them forward. It took only moments to speed up. Not quite at top speed, but their route was too crooked to rely on speed alone here. It was a matter of skill, too, but that was what made it fun. She was grinning faintly as her board continued to accelerate. Left here, then dodge the gaping crack in the pavement that had been marked with faded orange paint. The road was growing narrower, and she'd lose her opportunity to throw him if she didn't do it soon. Two of the opposing racers were a little ways behind them, and Marcus even further back, weaving and watching and waiting for someone to make a wrong move. There. Now. Liv released the tow and flung Lorde forward with a sharp exhale of breath. Almost as soon as he was free, one of the other racers zipped up to try and meet him, unable to get close enough to do any damage along the narrow road. They were practically forced into a single file line. Marcus could bull his way past the other racers from where he cruised along near the back, but that was work, and it was more fun to see how the kid would deal with the two racers on his back. He didn't fully trust the stolen board, either, and his judgement was seriously altered based on that factor. Once he had a touch more space, he'd move in, but right now, he'd watch. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | Male | 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
This section of the city was known for it's jumbled streets and odd angles. For instance the narrow street they were headed down right now. The two on his tail were like cats to him. Nipping and scratching to overcome him. He hadn't lost his balance, even after one had rudely knocked into the back of his board. In retaliation he had slowed just a seconds worth, causing the racer directly behind him to jolt a bit at the impact.
Finally pulling out of the narrow roads he knew what to expect next. The next turns were quick and very sharp, the other racers, if they knew what was a smart move would take these turns slower than what he anticipated on doing. He knew what he was doing was a huge risk. He didn't have any gravity pull boots, if he messed up just about anything... He could be dead. However that subject is always an after thought.
He turned hard left, his board skidded against the ground releasing a harsh shriek of metal and asphalt as his board attempted to adjust to the sudden change of directions. After a second turn it would have seemed that he would have a winning lead on them. The blockers of the opponents though had yet to make their approach, and because of Grayson's life never being convenient to himself a single blocker decided to make their debut.
The hit sent his board spinning. It was still moving in the right direction, just in a erratic swirl. He lowered his hips down while trying to get the control of his board, and while so, spotted the rest of boarders. If he booked it now he'd be able to win easily. They still had plenty of track left for the race... He'd just rather not have to catch up to everyone else.
He had finally regained his balance on the board and the spinning had stopped, but the blocker was still a little too close to his liking. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus maintained his distance just behind the string of other racers, trailing along like a shuddering, rocket-powered jet through the broken underbelly of Xona. He scarcely needed to think, simply do. Follow. Keep moving. A simple enough concept to grasp, but it required honing to really become great. Blocking was far more reflex-based than thought and planning, and he thrilled as the opposing blocker moved in to take a swipe at Lorde, the other board slicing forward like a matte black blade.
The kid was rattled by the blow. Or, his board was, at least. Although Marcus' instincts were tempted to knock the other blocker away instantly, he hung back, keeping a close eye on the proceedings in case they created too much more interference. As the streets widened, spilling the racers out into an open world of ancient roads and half-crumbled barriers, the opposing blocker turned on Liv. He rammed up against the side of her board with a horrific crunch and a squeal. Her body jarred with the impact, sending shock waves up from where her feet were firmly planted on the board's surface. It lasted for only a split second until the two boards separated again.
The opposing blocker seemed to have little plan in mind, but Marcus could say that was true of most blockers. They tended to either stick on one or two people, or perform with absolutely random pattern of behavior. As for himself, Marcus favored the random performance, which he was doing quite swimmingly as he watched the opposing blocker launch himself again towards Lorde. In his mind, there was zero hesitation about what to do, but, from an outside perspective, it certainly looked as if he was about to straight up abandon the kid to the mercy of the other racers.
Marcus swung wide, veering violently off to the right side of the others and spreading out to make some distance for himself. They were more than halfway through. If he bothered to pay attention to his surroundings rather than the race at hand, he could have probably heard the music and general bustle from the gathering of street racers some distance ahead on the right. Distance sort of lost its meaning in the twisted maze of the back streets.
The wind ripped at his clothes fiercely, ramping up accordingly to match his speed and the sudden shift in position. The movement had slowed him somewhat, and underneath him, he could feel his borrowed board struggling to retain its speed and still keep to the wide arc he was traveling. It felt wobbly, lackluster and alien to his feet, and he was wishing for nothing more at this moment than to have his own board back underneath him. After what felt like a long, spacey moment, his own uncertainty dangling precariously in the air, he forced the board to curve back around and cut into the space that was occupied by the opposing blocker.
The opposing blocker was busily bearing down on Lorde, the two boards almost touching. And when Marcus came around, they did indeed, crash together briefly. He bowled the other blocker into Lorde, and for a moment, there was a grinding sound as all three met and then split off again. It was a blind move, maybe even clumsy to make his target roll right into his "teammate", but he'd done it on purpose. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | M | 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
Grayson was still a bit off balanced from the hit from earlier, but the problem at the moment was the blocker who was literally coming for him. He swerved carefully to keep the blocker from getting right up behind him, however this tactic wouldn't last long. The boarder would eventually realize that if they just went straight they'd be able to cut him off.
If Marcus was actually going to do his job, now would be a good time. Grayson gave a flick of his head to help guide his flitting brown hair out of his face. During that he barely missed ramming into the side of a building. He hadn't raced with any blockers in a while, and it was proving difficult to get accustomed to it again. He wasn't used to someone coming after him for the sole purpose of knocking him around. Well... he wasn't used to it being in the racing section of his life.
Out of the corner of his eye he finally spotted Marcus. About time, after all the other racers would be catching up soon enough. He didn't expect what Marcus had been planning though. The clash sent vibrations up his body, and he tilted forward a little bit because of the impact. The other blocker behind him got the worst of the impact which was evident as Grayson felt a hand pushing themselves off of his back.
The impact however did benefit him a bit. After the jolt forward his weight helped careen him forward. The blocker didn't continue pursuing him, well at least not in time. Another racer though was speeding forward. Grayson continued forward though, and kept his place in front, up until the end. He crossed the final point and skidded to a halt.
Looks like the points Marcus desired wouldn't be coming from him. Unless he found something else he wanted to charge Grayson with. Last time he checked he had ruined his jacket or something, but that hadn't been a part of any deal. So he was pretty sure he wouldn't have to worry about it. |
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus didn't straight up congratulate the kid - that would have been way too expected, plus, it wasn't his style to just liberally sprinkle congratulations at the drop of a hat, anyway. He did toss out a very casual, and very disinterested comment of "that wasn't terrible" as he skidded by and waited impatiently to collect his winnings, but that could have been directed at just about anybody.
He wasn't wrong in his comment. Lorde wasn't terrible, not that you'd catch him spouting any higher praise than what he'd already given.
"I guess that means he's either a Spartan, or a really dedicated impersonator." Liv said as she guided her board over to Marcus. His expression didn't change, apparently unimpressed by the display of racing skills.
"He won against a bunch of rogues." He returned dismissively, "it doesn't take a Spartan to do that."
He caught his breath while the other racers caught up. It was maybe a few seconds later that they trailed reluctantly towards the winning trio, and Marcus greeted the petite racer with an outstretched wrist. He didn't care enough to adhere to any polite etiquette of sportsmanship, he simply waited for his points with a vicious leer.
There was a soft beep from his wristband as the points transferred and, as he pulled away, another beep of a slightly higher tone. An alarm, or a notification type sound, maybe.
He glanced down at the wristband, and a touch of mild concern flickered in his eyes. It was something that needed addressing sooner rather than later, but of course, getting his board back was top priority. Still, he probably wouldn't be able to make much progress on that front tonight, so he might as well swing by and check in.
"I gotta run. Thanks for the back up." He muttered to Liv as he fiddled with his wristband. To Lorde, he cast a suspicious look minus the thanks, although one could argue that it was perhaps slightly less volatile than usual. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
<div align="center">Grayson "Lorde" Brixton <div align="center">
<div align="center">It could be worse he supposed. At least because of the race he had proved himself a bit to the older guy. Not that Marcus would acknowledge it that much. Marcus probably still didn't believe that he was a Spartan, and it was confirmed as he overhead a conversation between him and Liv. <div align="center">
<div align="center">Grayson stifled a small snicker. A dedicated impersonator. If only that could be so. He'd been accused multiple times like this, but most of the time they gave in to believing him after a while. Of course those people had been bribed and sworn to secrecy to hold his identity. He chose who got to know, or it was sometimes just that he wanted to defend himself. <div align="center">
<div align="center">He moved a slight bit forward as Marcus seemed to be about to leave. <div align="center">"Oh, no thank you to me? Kidding. I don't care."<div align="center">Grayson peered down at the older teen's bracelet. Having noticed that it had made a small noise just a moment ago.<div align="center">"Something interesting happening?"
|
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus made a face and stiffened, but seemed to stop short of physically shoving the younger kid away, although he looked sorely tempted to do so. Nevertheless, he shifted his wrist, turning the bracelet away so that the narrow screen was at an even more obscured angle. It had a darkened privacy screening like most of the newer models so no, he didn't actually need to do anything to block the view. But just in case the kid could see the screen, could see that note of mild worry reflected in the instant message he'd received. Or maybe just to make a point. Privacy, or else.
Being thankful wasn't his style. Instead, he showed his thanks for the race in a sort of restraint. He yanked his arm down and nodded towards a jostling and rowdy pack of racers, "Yeah, over there-" then, a vague twitch, "or there, or anywhere else."
The vibe of hostility lightened, ever so slightly, though his eyes remained suspicious and narrow. "We'll have to do this again. You still owe me for the jacket."
After delivering his parting words, he urged his board forward, slipping through slight gaps in the crowds with a rude sort of urgency. They parted and closed again, used to intrusions of the hoverboard sort. As soon as he wrapped up this errand and daylight hit, then he'd go and relieve those cops of his property. It had only been a few hours with this sub-par board and he was feeling lost and irritable - well, moreso than usual. The sluggish board wasn't helping his mood. It lacked the responsiveness, the instinctive reactivity. But it would just be overnight, and then he'd ditch this awful thing. |
|
|
| |
Darkseeker
|
<div style="text-align: center;">Grayson | M | 15 | Rogue <div style="text-align: center;">Marcus
<div style="text-align: center;">With a slight roll of his eyes he backed off a little bit. With his arms folded against his chest he tapped his fingers on his arm. He wasn't really expecting anything more than hostility from Marcus, but as the day had progressed he seemed to be less agitated towards Grayson. <div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">Which could definitely be seen as a plus. <div style="text-align: center;">Do it again? Really? <div style="text-align: center;">"I don't-" <div style="text-align: center;">He stopped as Marcus was already gone slipping through the crowds of the backstreets. He weaved through the crowd With Marcus still in sight. The older boy probably still didn't like the board he had stolen from Harmond, Grayson liked to think that served him right, but honestly he wasn't really in the mood to cherish the older boy's problem. <div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;">(Ooooof. Do we want to time skip now? Or keep going)
|
|
|
| |
Neutral
|
Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: n/a
Marcus was used to receiving notices regarding his brother. It was a daily occurrence and had been for the better part of the past ten years, but that didn't make it any less stressful every time one of those quiet buzzes came through on his wristband. There was the constant worry that something was wrong - like, really wrong. Like, his world is on fire wrong.
It hadn't been anything bad this time. Sure, the fact that Mickey had only consumed one slice of pro-starch and nibbled at grain puffs all day was troubling to hear, but it wasn't critically problematic. He'd just needed some convincing to eat, and usually, Marcus was the one who could pull it off. So it had gone that evening. After being pinged by the school where his brother lived, he'd raced (slowly - that hoverboard was precariously awful) to meet him and gone through his usual performance of wheedling and coaxing until Mickey had finally caved.
One little benefit of getting a late-night message from the school was the sleeping situation. They didn't mind Marcus crashing on a spare couch overnight, which at least gave him a soft, safe place to catch some z's. It was usually in one of the offices, which immediately brought up all sorts of flashbacks to his own school days. Not exactly sweet dream material, but he managed.
Morning found him rising earlier than he might have wished, given his evening racing activities. He had no choice but to roll his tousled shape from the couch, wash up in the men's restroom, and slip into the yard to have a chat with his brother. As soon as he was done here, he was going straight to the police station so he could dump this junk board and retrieve the board he so sorely missed. |
|
|
Winter 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
