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Darkseeker
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Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | Male | 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus, (Ash)
From his first reaction, laughing of some sort, Grayson could tell the boy in front of him wasn't used to someone like himself. Grayson didn't typically antagonize people that much. Yet there were a few reasons now that he couldn't help it. One, the dude in front of him nearly made it impossible to stop. He couldn't help from jeering him on. Two, he was also a crew member. He hated how crew members automatically thought they were the 'best thing out there'. If they wanted respect, they'd have to earn it. The only bad thing about that was... He was probably spoiling his chances of landing a position in the Lions.
"Do I need to say it louder? Wow, blind and deaf? Man, that's got to really suck. I called you a wannabe. Did you hear that time?"
When the other boy's board swerved near him once more the space in between them was limited. Not even an arms length away. With a quick jerk of his weight he knocked his board against the one in front of him. It wasn't aggressive, it simply on scooted the other a slight bit backwards. Giving him a bit more room to breathe without being towered over.
"Don't you remember? Quite some time ago, my crew beat yours. I'm sure I still have the roster written down from then... Every Rogue? Must be quite a few you've met... Or is it just that they were tired of your 'I'm better than everyone' attitude, and you couldn't see how highly you thought of yourself?" He tilted his head a bit and in some way it made him seem a bit innocent. He didn't really know how this guy viewed himself, but if anything when Grayson called him a Wannabe, that sparked a reaction. Sure, the guy was probably trying to get a reaction from Grayson, but Grayson always did the instigating. Well, most of the time at least. |
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Neutral
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Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
That did it. Marcus didn't need much reason to go off, and as if being mocked by this talentless rogue wasn't enough, then he had the gall to actually knock his board against his own. Using a board as a weapon? That was his job. He was surprised by such a direct assault, sure, but his hostile glare never left the kid's face as an incredulous sort of fury poured over him. "I remember the part where the 'am cleaners had to scrape you and all of your sorry crew off the street with your boards." He snapped back, his body flooded with the same kind of manic energy that came around before a race. The Spartans had been a good crew until they screwed themselves over, and this kid had undoubtedly done some research, but that didn't give his argument any leg to stand on. If anything, Marcus was even less inclined to listen to him now, regardless of whether he was telling the truth. He didn't want to hear anything else. Reason had wavered when the kid had first appeared, and now whatever remained fled eagerly in the sight of this latest physical attack. He grabbed for the band on his wrist and switched off the gravity pull of his board, then jumped down onto the sidewalk. Although he wasn't large or particularly imposing by any means, especially for such a physical position as blocking, on the ground he moved with a blind, fierce intent that he imagined made his message very clear. "Nah, man, I think you must be a special kinda dumb." He growled as he lunged for the kid to try and knock him free of his board and hopefully put a swift end to his taunts. He was trained to fight only thanks to the rough caress of the streets, so while he wasn't a pretty sight and he knew nothing of rules or brawling etiquette, he knew enough to do some damage if the opportunity arose. |
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Darkseeker
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Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | Male | 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
The boy tilted his head the opposite direction and pursed his lips a tiny amount. His finger tapped against his chin before he spoke, continuing to gently sway on his board.
"Fair Point. Our Demise was one of the most notable things someone would hear about us in these past few years... I guess you only know how to recall the more broad events of the past." Grayson shrugged and stuck in his hands casually into his pockets. One look at him, and you'd think he had just about nothing when it came to income. His clothes, more specifically his sweatpants, were torn and streaked with dirt. The navy t-shirt he wore was too big on his slight frame as well. He also didn't have any gravity pull boots, that most racers had.
However if you looked closer you might have some doubts about that initial discovery. His board was highly advanced. It was an older model, but the accelerator was of one of high expense. In truth, he had quite a bit of income, but... it was safer to not use it under his name.
Grayson moved another foot backwards as the older teen stepped off of his board. He wasn't sure of the actual intent, but the anger that seemed to radiate off of him gave a pretty good indication. His suspicions were concluded when a dive was made.
He didn't move in time, and the other boy hit him in the hip. Sending him backwards toward the brick wall behind. Grayson regained his balance on his board and stopped before he rammed into the wall. Grayson scowled back at the other boy before surging to his side in an attempt to ram the other boy. He wasn't moving fast enough to cause real damage, just possibly push him back a few steps. After turning around he slid off of his board though and gestured with his wrist to move off to the side. That board was his brother's and he wouldn't see it broken again. |
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Neutral
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Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus liked to think that he had a good sense of balance. He had to in order to be an effective blocker, but even so, he was mildly thrown off when the kid pushed back. Maybe it was the fact that he was standing on solid ground instead of his hoverboard, or maybe he just hadn't expected any sort of fight out of the kid whatsoever. Marcus wasn't a big guy by any means, and comparatively the wannabe Spartan was even smaller - an uncommon scenario but one he appreciated - so he'd kind of assumed he'd be a literal pushover. It took half a second for him to restabalize his footing, then he came around and lunged forward, trying to back the kid against the crumbling brick wall of the 24-hour laundromat behind them. There was a huge window just a few paces away, but they were mostly shielded from the gaze of the most likely bored laundromat customers. They'd only be entertaining people on their side of the street today. Audience or not, Marcus couldn't resist the sweet allure of trash talking his opponent. "You realize your mistake yet? Yeah, I bet you wishing you gone the other way right about now. Too bad you didn't think of that before you saw the King." His scowl deepened into an unpleasant, manic sort of sneer as he swung at the kid, trying to land a hit anywhere he could. Well, that was until the kid's board somehow wound up at his heels. Automatically, he punted the thing aside, and immediately, he regretted it. Hoverboards were heavy. Like, are you sure that's not a rock, heavy. And unfortunately the human foot is more yielding than both rock and hoverboard. He bared his teeth in a grimacing hiss, cringing and lifting his feet alternately in something that almost looked like a dance of pain, "As soon as I finish with you, I'm gonna take your shit board and drop it off the Tower." He was so fixated on this impudent little punk who definitely needed to be taught a lesson, in addition to the throbbing in his foot, that he didn't notice that the pair had moved their scuffle a few paces over and were putting on a nice show for the laundromat customers. Well, watching a couple of boarders beat the snot out of each other sure topped watching the drying cycle. |
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Darkseeker
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Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | Male | 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
Was this fight worth his time? Most likely not, but Grayson could never say no to a fight. Being that he was the smaller opponent most of everyone would think that he would be loser. However, he had won fights against larger people. Cunningness was something he was filled with, and being who he was. Grayson had been trained by several different people. The Spartans weren't just a crew. They were an organization of sorts, almost like a business on the inside. They were a jack of all trades. With each member specializing in something different.
When the Lion taunted him he simply said nothing. The smirk that had rested on Grayson's facial expression was seemingly becoming permanent as it hadn't left. Trash talking only hyped up an opponent, so he opted for the sole fact that the other boy wouldn't have the pleasure of getting him angry.
Grayson remained light on his feet, and when the next throw came at him he was ready, but instead of dodging the punch and moving out of the way, he found himself up against a hard cold surface that he inferred to be a window. The laundromat if he wasn't mistaken. He stifled back a short bark of laughter as the other boy attempted to kick the hoverboard. Grayson straightened up and searched for a prompt exit from against the window. The dance of pain that was exhibited in front of him was rather interesting, but that was a distraction.
The next words that were thrown out though caused a reaction in him. The smirk fell off his face, and his eyes narrowed, but that was only for a second. He regained the look from before and started to move to the side, so that he could get a safer distance away so that he could dart from the window. |
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Neutral
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Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
His arm lashed out as he attempted to pin the kid against the laundromat, and the window wobbled faintly as his palm thudded bodily against it. He wasn't too worried about the window itself, despite his earlier glass-related shenanigans. There was practically no chance of it breaking under a couple of punches - he'd need rocks to pull off that trick. His foot throbbed faintly somewhere, but he shoved that thought to the back of his mind to focus on the task before him.
Either he was too absorbed in pummeling this upstart fake Spartan, or the cops were trying to be stealthy, but he heard the howling siren only seconds before he spotted the first hovercar slide abruptly along the curb a few feet away from them. He spun about and caught movement from inside the laundromat, his eyes narrowing in anger as he realized the bad situation he was now in. The handful of customers were watching their brawl, something like lethargic interest in their eyes. They'd gotten close, right near the window, but no one had bothered to step foot outside. Like they were afraid.
He eased up and took a step away, his hands twitching at his sides as he studied the flashing hovercar with something close to concern. There was an unspoken rule, one that stated that the cops didn't usually bother to chase after boarders. It wasn't worth the fuss. At least not during the night, when the crews ran race after race until the morning began to peek through. But now, this was different. Marcus wasn't sure what to make of it, but he knew he was irritated by the interruption.
"You are such a waste of skin." He spat as he whirled on the kid to begin his tirade afresh, his eyes furious. The pieces had fallen into place. "Pathetic. Of course you'd get the cops involved, a little snitch like you talking about windows and shit."
His hoverboard was a few steps away, over where the window panes melted into brick. But the kid's was right next to him where he'd left it. Thinking like a blocker, he did the most logical thing and shoved at the kid, hard, hoping to unbalance him, to distract him, anything. He didn't care what happened, and he certainly didn't pay the officer any mind as the big man stepped from the car shouting some order about getting on the ground. Marcus was just mad and he had to take it out somewhere, this kid was his best, and most deserving option. "No wonder you showed up, you were probably leading them over here. What sort of perks you get for being a snitch? A fancy board, is that it? That's the tell, I shoulda known it as soon as I saw your garbage board." Edited at April 9, 2019 08:58 PM by Umman Manda |
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Darkseeker
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Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | 15 | Male | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus, Cops
As the older teen's arm wildly came at him again Grayson found himself up against the window. He had been given a few hits, and in return had gifted the older teen with a few of his own. In total the fighting hadn't really been a lot. More so wild swinging of arms. Grayson let the smirk grow more smug on his face, it always seemed to egg his opponents on. Just show then you were amused.
His thoughts were interrupted at the sound of sirens. His heart skipped a beat. He really didn't need to be arrested right now. Or ever. The likely event that he'd be locked up somewhere was too real. It was one slip up and he was done for. There was only a small sliver of hope. Being that he hadn't been caught, doing anything in three years he might get let go. That is if they did catch him.
Grayson had been doing things he wasn't supposed to do. He had just gotten away in time. By now it might be too late. His attempts to flee the scene became more evident and slightly more frantic. Of course though, his opponent knew just how to instigate his own actions. "Yeah right. I would contact the police. Please-"
Grayson had moved away from the window only to be shoved back into it. Luckily he didn't fall over and was able to regain his stability. A skill he had acquired from riding most likely. He was pretty good at balancing.
The younger boy's amused eyes turned to a hard glare as the other boy spoke. He completely ignored the police presence that was yelling orders. "Oh yeah? Aren't you smart. Wait I forgot you're not." Grayson copied the set up for his last sentence, as well as the older boy's voice in a mocking sort of way. "I shoulda known you were full of it when I saw your garbage face!" Having regained his balance, Grayson rammed straight into the other boy. (With Permission?) The two toppled to the ground and almost instantly Grayson was scrambling to his feet while slightly winded. |
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Neutral
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Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus was already breathing hard when the kid barrelled into him full force, and he hadn't been expecting to get the wind knocked out of him. He went down, and it put him out of commission for a moment, but mostly it just angered him. Again. Or continued to anger him. He grabbed for the kid's ankles from his low vantage point on the ground, trying to roll and dodge the board that was somehow still in the middle of all this.
"Sounds like something a snitch would say!" He shot back, attempting to tackle the kid with a low blow that would bring him down to his level.
It wasn't until there were hands on him, pulling him firmly away, that he remembered the other threat. It wasn't so much that he wasn't worried about the cops, because he was, and he would have booked it under different circumstances. It was all that wannabe Spartan's fault that he hadn't even had a chance to run. If he hadn't come looking for him in the first place, he wouldn't be pinned to the ground with a cop kneeling over him.
"Don't touch me, I got rights! Let go!" Marcus was yelling, accompanied by an endless stream of curses as he writhed violently under the cop's hold. The cop didn't seem too inclined to do anything but shout orders and keep him there, struggling to regain his feet from his uncomfortable spot, his stomach pressed to the pavement while his legs flailed uselessly at empty air.
Almost as soon as he'd processed this frustratingly helpless position, he was dragged unceremoniously to his feet and thrust forcefully towards the wall. His curses even paused for a moment as he stumbled, stabilized himself against the scratchy brick surface, and caught a glimpse of the kid being confronted by another cop.
"That your board?" The cop was asking the kid, indicating the hoverboard emblazoned with the Spartans logo.
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Darkseeker
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Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | Male| 15 | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus
The younger boy was pleased by the fact that they had both went down. However his arms were now scraped and a gentle trickle of blood seeped from one of them. It didn't hurt so it was nothing to worry about. Grayson tripped as a hand went around his ankle and he went down once more. Landing on his hands he was preparing to jump up when someone from behind literally hoisted him off the ground.
His arms were pinned to his sides as the cop picked him up off the hard ground. Grayson wriggled in the man's grip and he gave a breath of relief as the man was having a hard time holding on to him. The world as of now seemed to blur together.
The older teen's yells fading into the background along with the police sirens that blared nearby. He finally felt the ground below him and he gradually stopped moving. "That's your board?" The cop asked while signaling to his board.
Grayson hesitated, he could say a number of different things. The best option right now seemed to be giving in. If he didn't resist arrest, and not put up fight then he might have a chance of not being locked up. He sagged against the cop holding him and gave a small nod.
"Yeah, it's mine... Nice seeing you again fellas..." Grayson said. He remembered a few cops from the time of the Spartan incident. |
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Neutral
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Marcus Kingston | M | 19 | Lions' Blocker | Mentions: Grayson
Marcus huffed irritably as he leaned against the brick wall, trying his best to emulate a cool and unconcerned attitude. It was offset slightly by the flush in his cheeks and the tear at the elbow of his jacket where he'd been scraped against the ground. Nevertheless, he did his best to completely ignore the situation and act as if was totally his choice to be trapped here by cops, really. He refused to make eye contact with either officer, instead just glaring sulkily at the kid, a silent warning that he wasn't about to let this offense slide. He wasn't actively arguing at this moment, no, but he was absolutely seething. He really, really wanted to tackle that kid again and finish what he started, but there was a cop standing in his way. "Got some ID you feel like sharing?" The cop was asking him as he pulled a scanner from his belt. The questioning was merely protocol, as well as a chance to establish cooperation - he could clearly see the bracelet around the teenager's wrist. But Marcus opted to let that opportunity fly right by. They'd have to work for it. He crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the questioning as he continued his death glare towards the kid. The cop pointed the scanner in his direction and there was a faint beep. "Marcus Kingston. Lions. Pretty early for you to be out and about, don't you think?" He commented as he read off the collected information. At the mention of the other kid's board, the cop glanced over, curious, "Spartans, huh? I remember that. Messy business, what's that still doing on the street?" He pushed something on his scanner that made Marcus' brightly striped board shut down. There was a soft hum like a computer blacking out, and then the board settled on the pavement. "So, Marcus, what's with you and your Spartan buddy creating a public disturbance?" |
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Winter 
Night Weather: 
Clear Moon: 
