The backstreets were rather comforting. It was noisy, with reckless activity and sometimes a furious demeanor. Yet, right now the backstreets were more calm then when everybody came down. As night was approaching racing was more common. Even all around town.

He should've known that he couldn't escape Marcus forever. They lived in the same city, and had the same profession. It was basically fate. Grayson could see that the tension between the two of them had decreased greatly, but because of the interaction before... It wouldn't take much to push them both into action. Grayson would like to think he could hold his tongue and temper better than the older teen. The reality of that though? Slight...

Grayson instantly grimaced as Marcus spoke. He had honestly sort of forgotten about that aspect.

"Right... You're still wanting that. I'm actually curious now, I haven't completely said no yet. If I don't supply you with 340 points... Are you going to drag me back somewhere... Kill me? Who knows?"

While speaking he opened up his 'bank' and set it up for a transfer. He hadn't set it up for a set amount yet though.

He thought Lorde was being rather dramatic about the whole thing. Murder was on another level, one that didn't mix well with racing. Vandalism was one thing, but grievous assault - never. Well, he'd beat up other kids before, he had to, but not that badly. Lorde was fine, right? He certainly looked fine. Despite his copious flaws, Marcus had some amount of self respect, and he wasn't about to tarnish his record to the point where he could no longer recover. People depended on him, he couldn't afford to be completely stupid. Not anymore.

Nevertheless, he didn't provide a straight answer to what he figured was just Lorde being a jackass. One brow quirked at the question, then lowered dangerously. A muscle in his face twitched, tightening the scarred skin as one side twisted in challenge. "You really want to find that out?"

He glanced to the side in a sort of vague greeting as Liv glided up beside him like a hyper aware watchdog. She nudged Marcus, scooting him and his board to the left so she could get a good look at the kid. "So you're the Spartan? I've heard of you."

Liv sized him up, her gaze curious, but ultimately a little disappointed by the unimpressive youth before her. He was only slightly taller than her, and considerably scruffier. "Thought you'd be a little older. How old are you, anyway? Twelve?"

Grayson returned the smirk, which was something he often did. Half the time it seemed as though he was only a brat, and he could deal with that. He had a softer side, which was concealed. Incidents lock people down, and Grayson hadn't been an exception. He'd gotten hit hard, his age too hadn't helped him too much when it came to getting along by himself.

"Maybe later, of course you'd have to catch me though, and with that rickety piece of junk that'll be nigh impossible." He said while pointing at the board underneath Marcus. Grayson didn't know where he had gotten it from, possibly Harmond or Trey. Or just some random kid or store.

The girl who came up kind of surprised him. He was barely taller than him, yet he was the one feeling more so intimidated. He was used to getting 'sized up' it still made him uncomfortable though.

"Oh? Has Marcus been telling stories?" His name or status wasn't typically spread about nowadays. Only a few people would speak of Spartans on a daily. The general public knew about them, but it was more so a though in the back of your head. You know about it... You just don't recall it until it's brought up.

"Uh no... I was twelve when we were the highest ranked in the city. An honestly? I don't look twelve. Just so we're being clear."

Marcus' face flushed in anger at that remark, whatever strange sense of tranquility he might have had was fading fast. His stolen board thrummed softly as it drifted closer to Lorde. It was junk, the kid was speaking truth, but he'd forced him into it. Pointing it out was just unnecessary and cruel. Marcus had retired the idea of destroying the kid's board, but as of now, he was reconsidering it. "Are you seriously playing this? After what you put me through, when you're the only reason I lost my board in the first place. I've already caught you twice. Without a board. Don't fuck with me, kid. I want my board back."

It was bad enough that he would have to go an entire night without recovering his board, but just when he'd come to terms with the idea, now here was this smart mouthed kid holding the means right out of reach. On purpose. Was this seriously how he got his kicks? Encouraging other boarders to beat the shit out of him? He might have launched himself right there and now, but for the interruption of Liv. She gave an exasperated sigh and nosed her board between the two, no doubt used to dealing with him and his moodiness.

As a boarder who dabbled in all positions, she was practically a pro at running interference. This was true both on a board and on the streets, especially for the hot-headed Marcus. She shot Lorde a decidedly patronizing grin. Wow. A hot shot top ranking boarder from a disbanded crew. That would certainly get a person far in life. Despite her mocking attitude, she was still, arguably, less likely to present a physical threat than Marcus, who was sulking just over her shoulder as if waiting for the chance to resume tearing into Lorde.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" Liv didn't seem convinced by his insistence that Lorde was not, in fact, twelve years old. She was even less impressed by his attempts at making himself sound important. "You look twelve to me. If you're really all that, why haven't you found yourself a new crew? Members from top ranking crews don't usually settle into the rogue life too willingly but you, you look real comfortable rolling around with your Spartans board. You know, considering they've been gone for a good two years."

"Hey, it's not like I told you to ride that dingy little thing." He said while crossing his arms over his chest. He had hit a sour spot, but he didn't really see how it was that effective of a poke at his anger, but obviously it was sensitive at this moment.

"The thing is... I wasn't really trying to get away this time... And last time that was an unfortunate moment... If you want your board go and get it."

The girl came in again, keeping Marcus from attacking him. That was a blessing in itself, but the fact that he was basically cornered by these two was making him antsy. Grayson shrugged at her comment.

"Make it mean what you want. I could care less."

The slew of questions were a bit deep, well deep to him. He didn't get asked about his choices or personal life often. Raising his eyebrows he tilted his head to the side for a moment before standing erect once more.

"Looks can be deceiving..."

His looks had helped him out a lot. His young demeanor had kept away unwanted trouble, except if he himself had instigated it. When he was actually twelve the number of times he had gotten into trouble was slim. He wasn't used to living on his own. He got used to it. Obviously, while picking up some regrettable traits.

Why hadn't he found a crew? Good question. He had been as of recently thinking about it. The older you got the harder it was to be efficient going it solo. "Because, at the moment I don't really need one. Anyways, The Spartans weren't just a crew. Haven't you a sense of loyalty? One horrifically bad thing happens and you ditch wear you came from? Not happening. Maybe I'll merge with a crew later, but that's my business. Why are you so interested?"

Marcus decided that he preferred the kid when he didn't talk. He was just too argumentative for his own good, always coming up with some excuse or another. It was small wonder he was still living and breathing with the number of people he'd likely pissed off during his short - okay, yes, maybe slightly longer than twelve years - tenure walking around this city.

"I saved your ungrateful punk ass." Marcus growled from where he loomed uncomfortably nearby. It was almost impressive, the way that someone of his short stature managed to loom. Maybe it was his permanently-stormy expression, or it just came down to the scar. Either way, he rarely looked cheerful regardless of what he was doing. "It's the least you owe me. If it weren't for me, those buddies of yours would be wiping you off the street."

He shot Lorde one more baleful look, a warning to stay put and not make any more bad decisions, maybe, then he cruised slowly off into the crowd. Relieved of her babysitting duties for the moment, Liv turned her attention fully on the kid-who-looked-twelve-but-arguably-was-thirteen. She was a master of the patronizing grin, which she resumed as she studied him. It was kind of cute how he got so defensive, like a cornered puppy.

"It's kind of like a hobby. But sometimes I get paid for it." She replied vaguely. It was entertaining to try and pre-determine which rogues would form into crews and when, and sometimes they made bets on the outcomes. Most people weren't so secretive as this Lorde, however especially not those of the high profile variety.

Marcus rejoined them, his eyes fixed on Lorde as he leaned in briefly to pass something along to Liv. It was quiet, murmured, and she tipped her head thoughtfully as she listened. Her expression changed from thoughtful, to doubtful, then to reluctant agreement as she nodded, her gaze slipping over to fix on the kid as well. There was a faint smile on her face as she said, "Sure. Cool, we're up in five."

Grayson "Lorde" Brixton | 15 | Male | Rogue | Mentions: Marcus

The younger boy gave a scowl at Marcus, didn't the older teen know what 'thank you' meant? He had already expressed that he was grateful for the obvious 'save'. Harmond and Trey wouldn't have seriously injured him, that would be a stupid move. If he was hurt he wouldn't really be able to race and that would leave him without an income. As well as them, if they were planning on piggy backing him.

"I already said thanks. What do you want me to do? Indebt my life to you?..." It was an obvious rhetorical question and he didn't really expect an answer. It was more so a filler.

As Marcus left Grayson received another 'look'. He'd seen it twice now. Each time Grayson had been left at Marcus' will more or less. He didn't like being told what to do, but then again he was cornered and this section of the city was harder to navigate.

Once the older teen left Grayson stiffly readjusted his arms across his chest and glowered at the girl who was easier to look at Marcus. She was almost his height so it wasn't like he had to crane his head any to look at her. Nor did he feel intimidated by the height. However her in general... was intimidating in her own way. Girls. A special kind of scary.

A hobby now? "Do you have any predictions yet?" That wasn't the same as what he did, but the payment meant they had a similarity. While... Her hobby was less incriminating then his was. What he did wasn't even a job... Well not legally at least. The cops and enforcers didn't care. It was just a matter of which crew was next to being taken down.

When Marcus returned he rather patiently waited, but then confusion lit his gaze. "Oh, so you guys are going to leave me alone... See you later then." He started to awkwardly slide to the side where a gap was.

"Oh, I always do. But I don't always share, no." She said, her smile patient, encouraging him to keep needling on the surface, but closed just underneath. She kept her eyes out on all the racing activity, but there was no need to reveal her own predictions until someone was willing to put some points on the line. Otherwise, it was just her own sort of personal fun.

Marcus had that nasty sort of sneer that was perfectly at home on his face, a hungry look as he eyed Lorde. He nudged Liv, expressing some silent inside joke as he guided his board a few paces behind the kid, attempting to steer him towards one of the more popular stretches of street. There were a few holes along the route, a few ramps, along with the ever changing scenery of construction, but it wasn't painful by any means. Perfectly doable, even enjoyable for the average boarder.

"No, pretty sure I said we." Liv corrected firmly when the kid began to drift away, emphasising the 'we' with a little scoff of amusement. She shot Marcus a look as if to say are you sure about this, but her humor persisted despite her doubts. He was a little slow on the uptake, maybe, but if he'd been a Spartan, he had to be worth something on the track. Maybe then Marcus would finally chill out over whatever beef he had with the kid. "You can race, right? What position?"

"Figure it out on the way. I'm blocking." Marcus added as he nodded towards the unofficial starting line. It was marked by a stop sign that had recently been knocked sideways so that it was nearly parallel to the ground, and there was a huddle of other boarders hovering anxiously nearby, waiting for another race to get underway first.

His eyebrows raised at that, people who liked predicting futures or just looking into them to see character was unnerving. It was like being watched constantly or never knowing when you're being watched.

On instinct he drifted away from Marcus as the older boy went up behind him. Which then it occurred to him that he was being guided to a specific spot. They intended for him to race with them? He shot a look to the girl which perfectly expressed his feelings. What the heck.

"Yes I can race. Isn't that a given? However I never agreed to anything."

So his suspicions had been correct, Marcus was a blocker. It would seemingly make sense from what Grayson had seen earlier. His mannerism matched it in a sense. While being guided to where his new 'competition' was he scanned the road that was seemingly their course. Knowing the course was an important factor when it came to winning.

His position? He'd been quite a few things. Never a tow boarder or a blocker though.

"Greetings from your local racer and trained strategist." He mainly just held the racer position, because well he could strategize for himself as he was racing. Being a strategist was hard, you had to try and figure out the next move your opponent would make from above. Typically a roof of some sort.

"Don't lose. Got 340 points on the line. Well, you do, at least." Marcus growled a warning to Lorde with a strange combination of menace and cheer. His surprise and slow realization had been amusing to watch, but this ex-Spartan better be worth the name he flaunted. He sneered, adding, "I'll try to make sure you don't get banged up too much, but thanks to you, I got this trash board I'm working with, so no promises. Good luck."

Marcus was mostly trying to make the kid uneasy, to get under his skin a little bit purely to see if he could. He had every intention of winning this race and performing his blocking as per usual, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't make the kid work for it a little more than he might otherwise. The three rogues they were up against weren't anything special. He'd seen them race before, and even faced up against one during her short-lived stint in a crew. Rogue crews rarely lasted, but sometimes they could surprise with a few ounces of skill.

Cora, the rogue who'd taken the position as racer of the trio, was small enough that she would have been perfectly at home among jockeys, with sharp, narrow features, and a shockingly bright streak of turquoise in her hair. She turned to eye Liv then, and when her questioning look went unanswered, her green gaze flicked over to Lorde to size up her implied competition.

"I expected...something else." Cora remarked dully as one of her teammates got himself ready to tow, configuring the boards. Liv did the same and wirelessly hooked her own board to Lorde's, smirking at the comment as she did so. She looked over at Marcus, who was hovering anxiously a few paces off to the side, then shot a glance towards Lorde, saying, "I think he just has that effect on people. You about ready?"