Aces Away

Edenridge

Phil Bristol's door opened early in the morning to a face he never thought he'd see again outside a phone screen. Mordechai Boaz stood outside the apartment of his longest standing father-figure with a shamed face and a tight grip on a ratty duffle bag; the man's eyes were glued to Phil's work boots and they just stood in silence for a tense moment. When it settled in his mind that the other man was actually here, a wide grin split his face and he pulled Mordechai into a tight hug.

"It's good to have you back, son." He said, holding onto Mordechai as the man went from coiled tight to weak in the knees, gripping him back just as strongly.

"I missed you, Phil."

Once the two had their heads on straight, Phil locked up and they walked together to the shop, Decky telling Phil about where he'd been and Phil ignoring the gaps in the story that were most likely edited-out crimes. By the time they had gotten to the Garage, Phil was completely caught up on any need-to-know of Mordechai's life, not that there was much. Phil, on the other hand, was being less than forthcoming about current events in Edenridge, and while that wouldn't typically bother him if they were talking on the phone, Decky knew Phil was always telling him that he had great stories for when he returned. Granted, it was said more out of hope that Decky would ever return in the first place, but Phil wasn't one to lie, which Decky found led to him simply not talking about things so as to not have to lie about them.

He was doing a lot of Not Talking at the moment, and left Decky unsure of how to fill the silence.

"Seriously, Phil," Decky grumbled as they made their way into Phil's office, only hesitating for a moment at his old work station, which looked untouched since the day he left. "I'm not stupid, a'ight? I know Nolan has left things out during our phone calls and texts, and now you're avoiding talkin' 'bout the town despite conspirin' with Nolan to get me back here, it's starting to freak me out."

Phil seemed to deflate a bit, his sunny demeanor falling victim to shade. "Look, Mo-Bo-" Mordechai's lips twitched at the old nickname. "We didn't start receiving these until after we convinced you to come back." Ok, what? Mordechai watched as the older mechanic bent down by his desk and unlocked the top drawer, pulling out a stack of envelopes. "Some of them were addressed to me, but most of them...most of them showed up with your name on it," he handed over more than half the envelopes, left unopened. "The whole town's been gettin' them recently. Or, at least...those who were somehow involved."

Decky listened to Phil over the buzzing in his ears as the man explained the recent plague of letters upon Edenridge, letters that were photocopied straight from Charlie fuckin' Decker's journals. Eventually, as he opened and began reading the letters himself, Phil got lost in the now pounding of his ears. Decker talked about him; about Decky and Danny and Southside things that people north of the tracks should never know. When he finished reading them all, he took his phone out with shaky hands and texted Nolan, surrounded by crumpled papers laying out the sick mind of his brother's murderer.

Outgoing Messages
To: So You Need to Learn How to Punch...
8:54am

Why the fuck didn't you tell me?

Aces Managerie

Decky and Nolan First Meeting

Decky stared blankly after his new friend as she all but flew out of the cafeteria in a hectic flurry, desperate to make her forgotten Cheer Meeting. Did she just...leave him with some stranger? Ok, whatever, her friend, meaning he isn’t exactly a stranger aside from the fact that Decky himself had never met the guy; he knew a couple stories from the beginning of their year but he can’t honestly say he listened that hard to the details. Besides, he’d only met Lanie herself less than a month ago when she began tutoring him in the library, this is the first time she convinced him to venture away from his secluded lunch table and she just happened to have to leave with barely an introduction.

He scratched absentmindedly at the track marks on his inner arm. Some had faded a bit, what with more of his time being taken up by Lanie and schoolwork, but despite her looks that he’s sure she doesn’t realize he notices, she hasn’t much brought it up yet.

”...Hi?” he ventured, trying to put some emotion behind it other than irritation.

A part of him was nervous once Lanie fled the scene, so nervous in fact, that he considered leaving himself. He didn’t know Decky, not really. He knew him in rumors and murmurs but he did not know him. While a part of him wanted badly to play the role of the protective best friend and sniff out this new guy in Lanie’s life, another part of him really valued not getting on the bad side of some guy with a track record.

Nolan Santora was not a fighter, he was not someone to be feared or someone to be reckoned with. Nolan Santora was a coward and a part of him was feeling somewhat cowardly about… all of this.

Of course, Lanie seemed to enjoy Decky’s company which held… some value to him but it did not entirely squash the looming sense of discomfort he felt now. They were alone. The ice was unbroken and Lanie had evacuated. His fingers idly drummed the table for a short moment before--

”...Hi?”

His head snapped up and he knew he must have looked almost… comically startled. “Oh--” He stumbled for a moment, unsure of if he’d actually been addressed for a moment. Seeing as the table was isolated save for the two of them, he managed to respond without sounding like a bumbling idiot. “Hey, I’m uh- I didn’t mean to zone out there.” He was used to socializing, this shouldn’t be so hard. “I-- Guess neither of us expected her to fly out like that, huh?”

Decky nodded, still not really looking the blond in the eyes. ”Yeah… he replied, glancing back at the doorway. ”She ditch like that often?”

He couldn’t really help the short laugh that escaped him, although he tried to muffle it behind his palm. The other boy was not keen on eye contact although that did not bother him much, in fact it kind of eased his anxieties, at least to some degree. “No, no-” He responded, still fumbling over his words somewhat but he managed to sound friendly and that was really what mattered. “Lanie’s solid.”

He meant that and it was said with all the earnest intent of a best friend. “She’s just-- more responsible than I’ll ever hope to be. She’ll be back before we know it, hell, she probably feels bad she left us here to begin with. I uh- I’m not always the best at making new friends and I’m a bit of a motor-mouth when I get goin’. I’m worried I’ll scare you off without her to interject.”

Decky smirked at the other boy, both happy at his reassurance and amused at seeing that he had already gotten himself going. ”That’s good, I don’t handle flakes well.” he replied honestly, watching the kids around them laugh and toss pieces of food. ”Don’t worry ‘bout rambling or nothin’, I got someone at home like that,” his thoughts moved to his brother, who was currently in 6th grade at Edenridge Middle per Decky’s agreement with his PO. ”I’m Mordechai, by the way, you can call me that or Boaz. Nicknames come when I actually know I like you.”

“Then you’ll like Lanie, she’s about as good as they come.” And he meant that too. He’d never had much luck in friendships, he always gave too much and received very little but it had never been like that with Lanie. It was a healthy back and forth. She listened to him and he listened to her and he rarely felt that comfortable with anyone but her.

At his quick reassurance, Nolan found a genuine smile appearing on his face. He didn’t know that he believed him but it was nice, at least. The gesture. “That’s a floodgate you might not wanna open, my friend.” He joked, leaning on his elbows. “I can talk your ear off ‘bout nothin’ and that’s probably why Lanie hadn’t introduced us yet. She knows I won’t shut up.”

“Mordechai.” He tried the name on for size, testing the pronunciation. Nolan had a tendency to speak too fast at times and bulldoze through names like they were nothing. “Lanie” had been easy enough. He’d have to keep tabs on himself when addressing Mordechai, because while some found his rapid word-vomit charming, he was still somewhat worried it would rub him the wrong way.

Astonishingly though, that worry was lifting as they spoke more easily. “I’m Nolan. I’ve known Lanie since-- well-- forever. She’s my best friend. You can call me Nol, if it suits you or Santora if it don’t. Where are you from, Mordechai? I don’t know too much about you and it can’t hurt to ask, right?”

It was better than taking rumors at face value, at any rate.

The same feral grin that greeted Lanie upon their first meeting made it's way onto his face at Nolan's question. He gave the boy a lazy two fingered salute and straightened up a bit. The other boy probably didn't know it, but this was now a test. "I'm a born and raised Southie, both before and after the Juvie sentence. My PO thought Northie was a nice change a pace or some shit. I think the bitch just wanted to take me away from my crew and corner as much as possible."

And for the first time, Decky met Nolan's eyes and held contact, waiting for the other's response while cataloguing the reaction.

He watched the grin spread across Decky’s face. It was a wolfish thing, really, he wondered briefly if that made him a rabbit. He had heard the rumors, of course, so there was little surprise to be found in his face but he did follow the statement with an inquiry. “What were you in for?”

It wasn’t judgemental or even rude. Just curious. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Decky’s eyebrows ticked up just a bit at the little reaction he received, and mentally he thought that maybe he could have a little fun with this guy. ”Some dickless baby bangers tried muscling into our territory and when they hit our corner I stabbed one-a them,” He shrugged, as though it was just another day to him instead of him recalling the night he was incarcerated. ”He survived, of course, or I wouldn’t be here. His crew did get me back on the inside though, stabbed me twice in the same spot ‘fore the guards got to us. Luckily he missed any important organs.”

“Oh.” The response was startled to a small degree but not appalled, or disgusted. His eyebrows may have been pushing his hairline but he mostly seemed alarmed at the idea that anyone his age could have been through something like that.

“I think-- I’m glad you’re alright though.” He tried, shaking off his alarm. “Ain’t ever been stabbed myself, been in a fist fight or two but I’m no fighter, really. I’m glad I asked you directly, ‘cause I’ve been kind of curious, admittedly. You’ve made a bit of an image for yourself.”

Decky blinked at the other boy, a bit startled himself at how much Nolan was just going with the flow. Seriously, what was in the water at Northie? Aren't rich kids supposed to run in fear at the mere mention of gang activity? Of violence and prison? Decky's shoulders finally relaxed from the harsh line they had been held in as he slumped forward and put an elbow on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he stared at the other boy with disguised wonder.

"...huh, I think I like you, Santora," he stated simply. "I can teach you how to fight, or I could just give you a knife for protection…" a grin split his face, then. "I got an image that quick? Shit, I ain't the only Southie here, must be the good looks and traumatic past."

“Well, good thing. I think I like you too, Mordechai.” He beamed at the boy across from him. He had the sort of smile that just seemed genuine and maybe that was why he and Lanie got along. They were both the unflinchingly genuine sort. “This place can be… judgy sometimes with the wrong people, but Lanie an’ I are pretty open-minded. You don’t seem bad to me and--”

He passed a conspiratorial glance over his shoulder and continued. “I might actually take you up on the fighting lessons. Can’t and won’t tell you how many of those fist fights I lost. I’m uh- not real equipped to that sort of thing, you know?”

Decky let out a surprised laugh, his grin following suit of Nolan's and become a bit more genuine. "Promise not to tell?" he leaned in conspiratorially as well. "Didn't learn to fight till I was jumped into my crew an' the boss decided I needed to bulk up if I was gonna be worth the corner space. Won my first fight three weeks later at the boxin' club."

Aces Managerie

EDITED JANUARY 8TH 2023 FOR TYPOS, DIALOGUE COLOR FIXES, AMD A BIT OF WORDING TO BETTER FIT SOLIDIFIED LORE/DYNAMICS

Decky and Lanie First Meeting

Decky ran a hand through his already thoroughly tousled hair, glaring down at the math problems as though it could force them to make sense. Language Arts was easy, but math? Hell no. ”Stupid fuckin’ PO,” He thought angrily. “‘You’ve done so well in Juvie classes, obviously you need to be thrown into the deep end of Northie to continue growing.’ What fuckin’ logic was that? They don’t even teach the same-” Someone bumped into the back of his chair, forcing it forward a couple inches as his sternum met the table.

“Oops!” Came the fake cry from the offender, and Decky turned around slowly to stare down the hulking figure in a letterman jacket, taking in the short brown hair and pale complexion, the starting scruff of a beard that doesn't quite cover up his acne. The boy was giving him a smarmy grin. “Sorry Southie! Guess you just blend in with the rest of the trash around here,” He laughed, his two buddies following suit. “You should get a job as a garbage man, since you already live like one anyway.”

One slow blink was the only reaction his taunting garnered as Decky didn’t even bother rising from his chair. He stared the idiots down until their laughter awkwardly dwindled, and then took his chance.

”Y’know,” he said, flipping out his butterfly knife and casually holding the tip against the now frozen boy’s thigh, just close enough to a certain part of the anatomy that it assured the others would make no move. They were staring at him with wide eyes as he let out the grin that had often been, quite literally, bloody. ”I ‘ppreciate the suggestion, given it’s one-a the few jobs that’ll hire someone with multiple incarcerations. And I mean,” He rolled his eyes, pushing the tip a little harder while the leader went white in the face. ”I might as well go big, what’s one more term on the inside if it keeps you’re fugly ass from ever reproducing, hm?”

As he continued his staredown with the others, he couldn’t believe the lack of security at this school, at least Southie had some rent-a-cops stationed around. ”Ignorance really is bliss, huh?” he thought, still stuck in the culture shock phase of his time here.

“Excuse me, um… What’s going on here?”

The willowy blonde in the white cashmere sweater, thick black leggings and knee-high black leather boots had no idea what she’d walked into. When she’d arrived at school that morning of the first day of freshman year’s second semester, the guidance counselor had wasted no time in procuring her assistance. There was a new student in her year: a young man from Southie under ‘delicate and special circumstances’ was in need of a ‘buddy’ to show him around the school and tutor him in Geometry. And, of course, who else could be more perfect for the job than Edenridge High’s resident ray of sunshine: Lanie Lancaster? As expected, the green-eyed cheerleader had been flattered, and had delightedly accepted this new task. She was to meet her new friend in the library during second period study hall.

In regular Lanie fashion, she had reached her destination with five minutes to spare. A wide, bright smile illuminated her femenine features, and her cheerful disposition was already in place to greet this new student. But when she arrived at the table Ms. Vaughn had said the new boy would be, she didn’t know what exactly she was staring at. All she knew was that Eden’s resident jock asshole Brian Saunders had a knife to the crotch, his two equally useless lackeys Kyle and Seth stood paralized and looking like their life was flashing before their eyes, and who she assumed was her protegé was the one holding said knife to the nether regions.

“Is everything okay?” Lanie said gently, looking back and forth from Brian and the dark-haired young man with the weapon. She realized this was a stupid question-- things were obviously far from okay. But she figured it was as good an attempt as any to defuse the situation without getting herself maimed, stabbed or killed in the process.

Initially, Decky only gave a quick glance to the new player on the board, making sure his attention stayed on his prey. Her voice demanded attention in an almost Aphrodite like way, soft and sweet, alluring in its energy. He gave the knife just a bit more pressure in warning before returning it to his pocket with quick, practiced ease. Then he finally got a good look at the girl, keeping his rough grin on the whole time.

She was pretty. Well, actually, she was downright gorgeous; long golden locks with a healthy athletic figure and eyes as green as his Trip-S tattoo. The predatory grin changed to something just a bit more inviting.

"S'all good, Sweetheart, just learnin' ta make friends in Wonderland."

Elaine raised a disbelieving eyebrow at the boy. Anyone with half a brain cell could see that the exchange currently happening was far from being friendly. “Friends… Right...” she muttered, nodding slowly before turning her attention back to Brian and his crew. “I don’t mean to be rude, Bri, but I think it would be a good idea if you guys found another place to study,” Lanie said politely, knowing fully well that the last thing those dudes did was study. “I was supposed to start his tutoring session five minutes ago, and I’d like to do so with no more distractions, if that’s okay.”

He kept his smirk in place as the jockstrap squad stumbled away with angry grunts and mumbles. Once they had disappeared, he turned fully to the girl by his table. "So, that was fun; kinda reminded me a the sixth grade lunch room.” he joked, looking unsubtly at the sharpie markings on his hand. "So, uh, you’re Elaine? I’mma have to be honest and say I don’t know how much attention I could pay to studying with you around. What are ya, a fuckin’ model?”

That wasn’t what Decky had meant to say, and only his amazing poker face kept him from turning red as a tomato. As it was, he simply looked her up and down and gave a leer in hope of scaring her off before she bothered to sit down. It was gonna happen eventually so why would he bother giving her any time?

Lanie had never been a stranger to her peers making comments about her appearance. Some were nice, some were not so nice, and others were just plain disgusting and rude. By this point, she had started to learn the importance of taking others’ opinions with a grain of salt. But the way this guy had just blatantly said to her face exactly what was in his mind, and the slight second of panic in his eyes after he’d said it, had her suddenly bursting out into a fit of genuine laughter. Her fit of emotion was loud enough to earn her disapproving glares from her fellow students, and even the librarian had to raise a finger up to her lips in her direction in an attempt to get Lanie to sober up. The blonde’s laughs eventually subsided into quiet little giggles, and she turned to the boy with tears of laughter still sitting in her green eyes.

“Oh my God, I could only wish I was a model,” Lanie playfully lamented, letting out a fake, exaggerated sigh. “I could be making so much money letting strange men take pictures of me right now.”

Decky was bewildered by her reaction. He’d never had someone straight out laugh at any of his bridge burning attempts, and he was unsure how to proceed from there. He did know one thing though, and that was that she even had a beautiful laugh.

”Fuck.”

Nervously, he began scratching at the inside of his elbow, exacerbating the already inflamed track marks that could be found there. ”Uh, right…well, you could always hang on a Southie corner, plenty of men lookin’ for pretty things to take pictures of.” It was a joke, that was all it was meant to be. Just a joke. Except, of course, for the fact that it was also completely true. He’d steered Danny away from enough of them. When his parents let the house go empty during their stints hiding out in drug dens, Decky...well, Decky had to feed his baby brother. Lanie, however, had none of this context to explain the dark look that crossed his face at the...Joke…

While her earlier comments were meant to be jokes, there was something about the way this young man had said that made her think that he was probably being serious. That and coupled with the amount of unsavory things she had read and heard about the south side of town, she didn’t doubt that his statements were anything but true… Which made her skin crawl under her sweater.

“As tempting as that offer sounds, I think I’ll pass…” she joked, trying hard to lighten up the dark atmosphere that had seemed to settle between the two. “I don’t think I got your name before. Ms. Vaughn didn’t tell me, and I was so excited to meet you that I rushed off before it dawned on me that I didn’t ask! You can call me Lanie, by the way. Everybody calls me Lanie.” She knew she was rambling, but that was just her natural reaction to anything that made her feel uncomfortable.

He arched an eyebrow at her. Excited to meet him? What the hell was wrong with Northie? ”Yeah, I was…super excited to meet someone in a library and cram useless information into my brain too,” He knew he was being kind of mean, and that the girl was probably very sweet. But to Decky, that was all the more reason to keep her at arms length at least, as it was clear she wouldn’t leave.

”It’s Boaz. You don’t get to shorten it, and last name only.”

Lanie found his sarcasm and lack of enthusiasm over having to sit through nearly an hour of some random girl trying to teach him Geometry amusing enough to let out a snicker. In his defense, she probably would’ve reacted in the same way if they had moved to Edenridge when the anger at knowing they were leaving her hometown was still fresh. She didn’t have much time to dwell on this, though, because he had already moved on to finally disclose his name.

“Boaz…” the young woman repeated slowly, feeling out how the name rolled out of her tongue so she could continue to use in the future. In typical Lanie fashion, her mind was already racing with ideas of many fun, cute and special ways she could shorten or use as a nickname for her new friend. But because he had specifically told her shortening it was not an option, the girl knew it would be rude and disrespectful to go against his wishes. “Boaz it is!” she declared, smiling brightly at Boaz and offering him her extended hand.

He gave a quick flinch at the sudden movement, whole body tensing before he recognized the gesture. He then slipped his calloused hand into hers and have a good shake before retreating again. He appreciated that she had so easily followed his boundaries, and he tilted his head as he stared at her for a moment longer. "Okay, Lanie," he gave her a small, barely there smile. "What the fuck is up with these formulas? My last course was remedial Algebra so I don't have a fuckin' clue what's goin' on." he turned his attention away from her and back to his book, running his hand through his hair again as he kicked out a seat for her to take next to him.

With a small chuckle at Boaz's exasperation about their subject of study, Elaine gracefully took the seat being offered to her and placed her belongings on top of the table. She went straight into tutor mode: pulling out her textbook, notebook and colored pens from her bag and neatly setting everything in front of her. Once finished, she turned to her classmate.

"You want to know a secret?" she suddenly asked him, lowering her voice and looking around as if worried about anyone listening in. "I don't have a clue of what's going on most of the time either," she confessed with a playful smile, leaning closer to him. "But I definitely know enough to get us on the right track! So, as long as you promise to pay attention and give your maximum effort, I'm confident I'll get you to pass Geometry with at least a-"

Decky pulled away from her harshly, whole body seizing as he sized her up. He wasn't a stranger to what those lean ins could lead to, whether he wanted them or not, and he'd done pretty well avoiding those chicks since he got out. At this point it would be illegal for them to do anything again anyways given the girls' now adult ages, but that didn't mean they didn't leave an impression. Immediately his eyes turned sharp and he sneered at her.

"You gotta get so close, they not teach you personal space in Northie? That's gonna be a fuckin' issue, sweetheart." he bit out, keeping his whole body facing her as though preparing for a fight.

Elaine pulled away from Boaz instantly, her flushed face now equal parts embarrassed, guilty and ashamed. "Oh God, I am so, so sorry!" she stammered in apology, pushing her belongings to the opposite side of the table to downplay how her green eyes filled up with tears. Never in her life had she experienced anyone having such an aggressive, revolting reaction when it came to her presence. It really made her wonder whether her being the one assigned to help Boaz would do him more harm than good. "I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable in any way! Would you rather I sit across from you instead, or find a space that's a little more open?"

He blinked hard at her response, his world momentarily tilted on its axis as he attempted to find the words that matched hers, and he couldn't. He didn't have any contingencies to that response. Probably because he'd never gotten that response.

"I...I...uh-fuck," he stammered, wind taken out of his sales as he hunched in on himself and began avoiding eye contact. That's fuckin' embarrassing. "I misread the fuck outta that. Don't start cryin' on me, they might think I hit ya and send me back to juvie!" was he panicking? Was that a bad joke for the timing? Did he wish to be high for this situation?

Yes.

"I'm not crying!" Elaine argued, looking away and repeatedly blinking hard until all tears had disappeared from her eyes. She wiped away the corners of her eyes to make sure none of them had escaped and there was no incriminating evidence of them before she turned towards Boaz again. "The misunderstanding was all my fault. I should've been more careful about the way I approached you. You just got out of juvie, after all, and I have no idea where you come from or what you've lived through before. I don't blame you for reacting like you did. I'm just… I'm really, really, really sorry…" she apologized again, anxiously biting her lower lip.

Decky had no idea what to do. This girl, this bright ball of energy and warmth was acting differently than he expected at every turn. Their knowledge of how the world works was so drastic that trying to interact in any casual way was quickly reaching Trainwreck territory. What did she want him to do? How was he meant to respond to her to smooth things out? If she hadn’t had such soft words during the apology, he would know to sneer and make a comment about how it must be nice in Northie to feel so safe. Must be nice that you can let someone that close without unwarranted hands or blades finding flesh.

But she spoke like cool water over a fresh burn, and she was softer than anything he’d ever seen, barring his newborn brother all those years ago.

”I...don’t know how ta react right now…” He answered stiltedly. ”Ain’t been in a situation like this, feel like Dorothy or Alice or some shit…”

Edenridge

Decky

Name

Mordechai Oren Boaz

Nicknames

Decky, Mo-Bo, MOB, Boaz

Age

20

Gender

Male

Sexuality

Bisexual

Relationship Status

Single

TW: CHILD ABUSE, CHARACTER DEATH, DRUG USE, FAMILY LOSS
Appearance Details

• Hair: Black | Straight with a hint of waves when cut short | Decky has a habit of combing his hair with a wet comb in the morning- if he even bothers with that- and then running his hands through his hair for the rest of the day, leaving him with a sort of slicked-back-tousled look more often than not.
• Eyes: Brown
• Height: 5'10
• Body Type: Years of abuse and malnourishment left Decky a little on the skinnier side, while his activities lent to lean muscle forming. This left him with what looks more like a runner's build, letting him easily hide his shape under bulkier clothes and layers.
• Clothing Style: WIP
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings:He's got too many scars to count, most from shattered beer bottles and belts. The notable ones would be the one just above his left hip, where an asshole Fear Gorta had shivved him in Juvie. There was a ragged burn scar across his collar bone, and while it has distorted a bit as he grew, the word burned into him over time by several of his parents' cigarettes still clearly read BURDEN. His thigh has an angry red scar from where the Human Arsenal that was Charlie Decker had plunged a knife straight into it after pistol-whipping Decky into a daze.
  Tattoo wise, Decky has two stick-n-poke names over his heart; Danny and Lanie. His left shoulder bares the Trip-S tattoo that he got as a young teen. On his left forearm is the newest, showing a detailed gravestone covered in colorful rocks, the years 2005-2020 the only marking on the stone. He has no piercings, as they made no sense to him with as many fights as he got into.

Personality Traits

Decky during school acted about as much the delinquent as his peers and most adults expected him to. He had a rage built from the moment he could feel the emotion, and used any indignity he saw as a reason to outlet a bit of that fire that burned him from the inside out. You were one of the very lucky few if you could genuinely say you know Decky Boaz, but given that it's him you'd know about, you can't be too lucky.
It's completely different when he was around Danny, and often times Lanie as well. He may not be great at expressing his emotions but when it comes to those he cares about, he can be incredibly passionate. However, just like with his anger, he doesn't exactly think everything through and very well may have gone overboard and bordered on smothering. If it got pointed out to him, he would go a bit distant until he could sort out how he felt about that on his own.

Biography

Born and raised in Southie, Decky had a bleak beginning to life; born in the middle of a drug den a whole month early when his parents had been picking up an ounce, his parents just wrapped him up in some newspaper from the ground and took him home when they were good and ready. Surviving on pure miracle and lifeforce alone, he made it to three years old where he was greeted with a new role in life: Big Brother.
Daniel Amos Boaz was born in much better conditions than Decky, given that at the time his mother had been on parole and her PO was keeping track of the baby's health just as much as hers. Until, of course, he was born and no longer literally attached to her main problem. After that it was once again up to the young ones of the house to fend for themselves, though even at his young age Decky knew that he would keep his parents' hands on him-and away from Danny- as much as possible. These evil people didn't deserve that ball of light. Danny was his and he would protect him.
While this kept Danny relatively safe, it did nothing to keep Decky himself safe. The night his parents chainsmoked and burned "Burden" across his collar bone, he went out to his street corner, 10 years old, and got jumped into the South Side Serpents. He began dealing on that corner the next day. It was also around this time he met Phil at his Junkyard and Garage and began doing mechanics. About a month into his eighth grade year a war broke out between the Trip-S gang and the Fear Gorta, and less than a week later it reached his neighborhood and his crew. Surviving the fight, managing to stab one of the other crew, and the two year sentence with chance of early Parole did nothing to quell how worried he was about Danny being alone at home for so long. Decky kept his head down as much as possible by sticking with his crew and doing the stupid schoolwork, because Juvie wouldn't even let you escape school while you were there. At his hearing a year and a half later, Decky was released back into the world with part of his parole stipulating that he attend Edenridge High across the tracks. Swell.
Meeting Lanie and getting clean of anything but weed and the occasional party drug, moving out of his parents and taking Danny with him, rediscovering his love for Mechanics and hanging out at Phil's garage, and all the other shit in the intervening two and a half years don't seem too important compared to the biggest thing: The Shooting. They were there for their allotted free breakfast, but Decky had just left Danny to go check on the Autoshop project. He'd told Danny he'd be quick, as his Freshman brother was getting swamped in homework and despite Mordechai not actually knowing what the AP kids studied, he was adamant about helping Danny as much as possible. He was halfway there when he heard the first shot, and it gave him only a seconds pause before he broke out into a run towards the sound. Towards the cafeteria. He slid through the doors and before he could do anything something hard cracked against his temple and sent his head flying to the side, and without giving him a second to catch his breath, Charlie Decker brought the handgun once more across Mordechai's head. He had to have blacked out as he tried to stand, because when his vision cleared again he was staring at a knife embedded to the hilt in thigh. His brother's choked sob made it through his foggy awareness and, as though he was seeing snapshots instead the full thing, Danny was running towards him; the gun went off so close to his ear he lost the ability to hear; Danny stilled; Danny dropped; Decker laughed and fled the area, leaving the brothers to reach out to each other while the living cafeteria members stared on. He remembers blacking out just as their bloody fingers touched.
Waking up and being told Danny hadn't survived was like dying himself, or wishing he had. He had a concussion and a rather blatant limp from the stab wound, but was overall discharged rather quickly, given his emancipation and ability to sign himself out. Everyone in the hospital was talking about what happened, and he even saw several of his schoolmates in the rooms he passed as he left. He moved like an absolute zombie, lost in a world without Danny as his light. He waited for no condolences, attended no funerals, he just went straight to Phil's and grabbed the motorcycle he had been building for himself for years. He took off with Phil as the only link to him.

Family

Alana and Benjamin Boaz- Parents
Danny Boaz-Baby Brother (Deceased)| FC: Levi Miller

Relationships

Phil Bristol-Mentor/Mechanic/Owner of Phil's Junkyard and Garage

Lanie Lancaster-Ex-Girlfriend

Nolan Santora-Friend

Misc.

Face Claim: Felix Mallard| Color Code: DC143C
Decky worked at Phil's Junkyard and Garage since he was 12 and Phil found him scrounging through scrap piles.
Theme

Edenridge

TW: CHILD ABUSE, CHARACTER DEATH, DRUG USE, FAMILY LOSS

Decky

Name

Mordechai Oren Boaz

Nicknames

Decky, Mo-Bo, MOB, Boaz

Age

20

Gender

Male

Sexuality

Bisexual

Relationship Status

Single

Appearance Details

• Hair: Black | Straight with a hint of waves when cut short | Decky has a habit of combing his hair with a wet comb in the morning- if he even bothers with that- and then running his hands through his hair for the rest of the day, leaving him with a sort of slicked-back-tousled look more often than not.
• Eyes: Brown
• Height: 5'10
• Body Type: Years of abuse and malnourishment left Decky a little on the skinnier side, while his activities lent to lean muscle forming. This left him with what looks more like a runner's build, letting him easily hide his shape under bulkier clothes and layers.
• Clothing Style: WIP
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings:He's got too many scars to count, most from shattered beer bottles and belts. The notable ones would be the one just above his left hip, where an asshole 15 year old had shivved him in Juvie when he found out he was a Trip-S. There was a ragged burn scar across his collar bone, and while it has distorted a bit as he grew, the word burned into him over time by several of his parents' cigarettes still clearly read BURDEN. His thigh has an angry red scar from where the Human Arsenal that was Charlie Decker had plunged a knife straight into it after pistol-whipping Decky into a daze.
  Tattoo wise, Decky has two stick-n-poke names over his heart; Danny and Lanie. His right shoulder blade bares the Trip-S tattoo that he got as a young teen. On his left forearm is the newest, showing a detailed gravestone covered in colorful rocks, the years 2005-2020 the only marking on the stone. He has no piercings, as they made no sense to him with as many fights as he got into.

Personality Traits

Decky during school acted about as much the delinquent as his peers and most adults expected him to. He had a rage built from the moment he could feel the emotion, and used any indignity he saw as a reason to outlet a bit of that fire that burned him from the inside out. You were one of the very lucky few if you could genuinely say you _know_ Decky Boaz, but given that it's him you'd know about, you can't be too lucky.
It's completely different when he was around Danny, and often times Lanie as well. He may not be great at expressing his emotions but when it comes to those he cares about, he can be incredibly passionate. However, just like with his anger, he doesn't exactly think everything through and very well may have gone overboard and bordered on smothering. If it got pointed out to him, he would go a bit distant until he could sort out how he felt about that on his own.

Biography

Born and raised in Southie, Decky had a bleak beginning to life; born in the middle of a drug den a whole month early when his parents had been picking up an ounce, his parents just wrapped him up in some newspaper from the ground and took him home when they were good and ready. Surviving on pure miracle and lifeforce alone, he made it to three years old where he was greeted with a new role in life: Big Brother.
Daniel Aaron Boaz was born in much better conditions than Decky, given that at the time his mother had been on parole and her PO was keeping track of the baby's health just as much as hers. Until, of course, he was born and no longer literally attached to her main problem. After that it was once again up to the young ones of the house to fend for themselves, though even at his young age Decky knew that he would keep his parents' hands on him-and away from Danny- as much as possible. These evil people didn't deserve that ball of light. Danny was his and he would protect him.
While this kept Danny relatively safe, it did nothing to keep Decky himself safe. The night his parents chainsmoked and burned "Burden" across his collar bone, he went out to his street corner, 12 years old, and got jumped into the South Side Scorpions. He began dealing on that corner the next day. It was also around this time he met Phil at his Junkyard and Garage and began doing mechanics. About a month into his eighth grade year a war broke out between the Trip-S gang and the newbies in town, and less than a week later it reached his neighborhood and his crew. Surviving the fight, managing to stab one of the other crew, and the two year sentence with chance of early Parole did nothing to quell how worried he was about Danny being alone at home for so long. Decky kept his head down as much as possible by sticking with his crew and doing the stupid schoolwork, because Juvie wouldn't even let you escape school while you were there. At his hearing a year and a half later, Decky was released back into the world with part of his parole stipulating that he attend Edenridge High across the tracks. Swell.
Meeting Lanie and getting clean of anything but weed and the occasional party drug, moving out of his parents and taking Danny with him, rediscovering his love for Mechanics and hanging out at Phil's garage, and all the other shit in the intervening two and a half years don't seem too important compared to the biggest thing: The Shooting. They were there for their allotted free breakfast, but Decky had just left Danny to go check on the Autoshop project. He'd told Danny he'd be quick, as his Freshman brother was getting swamped in homework and despite Mordechai not actually knowing what the AP kids studied, he was adamant about helping Danny as much as possible. He was halfway there when he heard the first shot, and it gave him only a seconds pause before he broke out into a run towards the sound. Towards the cafeteria. Before he could do anything something hard cracked against his temple and sent his head flying to the side, and without giving him a second to catch his breath, Charlie Decker brought the handgun once more across Mordechai's head. He had to have blacked out as he tried to stand, because when his vision cleared again he was staring at a knife embedded to the hilt in thigh. His brother's choked sob made it through his foggy awareness and, as though he was seeing snapshots instead the full thing, Danny was running towards him; the gun went off so close to his ear he lost the ability to hear; Danny stilled; Danny dropped; Decker laughed and fled the area, leaving the brothers to reach out to each other while the living cafeteria members stared on. He remembers blacking out just as their bloody fingers touched.
Waking up and being told Danny hadn't survived was like dying himself, or wishing he had. He had a concussion and a rather blatant limp from the stab wound, but was overall discharged rather quickly, given his emancipation and ability to sign himself out. Everyone in the hospital was talking about what happened, and he even saw several of his schoolmates in the rooms he passed as he left. He moved like an absolutel zombie, lost in a world without Danny as his light. He waited for no condolences, attended no funerals, he just went straight to Phil's and grabbed the motorcycle he had been building for himself for years. He took off with Phil as the only link to him.

Family

Alana and Benjamin Boaz- Parents
Danny Boaz-Baby Brother (Deceased)

Misc.

Face Claim: Felix Mallard| Color Code: DC143C
Decky worked at Phil's Garage and Junkyard since he was 12 and Phil found him scrounging through scrap piles.
Theme

Aces Managerie

Phil

Phil Bristol

Born in New York, Phil grew up in an upper-middle class neighborhood. Both his parent had nice jobs and he went to a private school. His parents always hoped he'd get the best education and be able to surpass them and live even more well-off than they themselves were. Phil, however, was never as attracted to common education as he was to cars and other contraptions. He didn't love science so much as he did inventing, or math so much as how much was necessary when making blueprints and the like. So he studied engineering and mechanics in his free time, even finding himself stopping by auto shops every now and then to ask the mechanics questions. They had no problem with a cute kid, all bright eyed and excited to learn their craft, hanging around as long as he followed safety protocols.
He found himself off the beaten path when he was 14 and his dad's car broke down. Without so much as a word to his father, Phil had the problem fixed before his old man even got off the phone with the mechanic. After the shock wore off, his parents spoke with him, and after a quick trip to the shop that they didn't even know he'd been going, they got praises from the workers and recommendations for different schools that would better cater to his interests. They'd made up their minds.
From then on, Phil went to a trade school for inventing, electrical engineering, and mechanics. He graduated with perfect grades and his parents' blessing to open his own shop as soon as possible. He never did finish a common high school education, and sometimes found himself lacking in places. Surprisingly, it never bothered him much.
It didn't happen at first; Phil picked up a job down in Boston and from age 19 to 22 he worked happily there. Once he felt comfortable and experienced enough, he opened his own shop and scrap yard in Edenridge, South Boston and set to work.
He was 37 when a young boy with a bruised face got caught pulling scraps off motorcycles. He grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck- noticing the flinch and filing it for later- and set him down at a station, telling him to get to work. The shocked boy went at it with his borrowed tools until closing.

"Jesus kid, you just did the work of three grown-ass men! How old are you?"

"10, and my name ain't 'Kid'," He'd grumbled back.

"Well, maybe if you'd tell me your name," Phil replied with a roll of his eyes, not letting it show how shocked he was at the boy's adeptness.

"...Mordechai Boaz. My brother calls me Decky."

"Well, Imma call you Mo-Bo, how 'bout that?"

"What?! No don't call me th-"

"Alright Mo-Bo, let's get you home!"

The boy had looked less than thrilled, but admitted that he needed to make his brother a late dinner. Phil didn't comment on that either.
Phil had left the boy with a parting comment about an open door policy, but never expected to see him again. Especially not the next day. But the kid kept coming back, working on his little motorcycle project and even helping the other mechanics. And if the boy was doing the work, Phil was damn well going to pay him for it; under the table until he could be legally hired, of course.
He always brought his brother with him after that, and the boy just stayed quiet and out of the way, acting like he was an intruder and inconvenience. That's when Phil started keeping candy around the garage and ice cream in the mini-freezer. Danny began talking and showing his real personality after that.
Then Mo-Bo went and got himself locked up, and Phil got a little worried. He visited the boy on his designated days and went out of his way to pick Danny up from school on his lunch break and bring him back to the shop, making sure the boy spent as little time at home as possible. He wasn't stupid, after all.
When he was released and sent to Edenridge High, Phil felt excitement that the boy may actually get out of his home. Mo-Bo was a lot smarter than people gave him credit for, including the boy himself; he could excel in both Common education and Trade. Phil didn't push it much, just kept some textbooks around that would keep the kid relatively on level with what the rest of his age group was learning. He caught Mo-Bo passed out on the break room couch one night, Language Arts textbook spread open on his chest with a dictionary on the ground and highlighters all over the place. All he'd done was smile and put a blanket over the slumbering teen.
Then came miss Lanie and Nolan, good influences on the boy if he'd ever seen any; Mo-Bo slowly lost the track marks on his arms, and Phil was so damn happy he didn't even complain about the scent of weed that wafted off him more often. While Phil had been nudging Decky toward the idea since he was 13, hoping he would make plans, it was truly Lanie who finally got Mo-Bo moving forward and finally receiving his emancipation, and she even took his boys in with the blessing of her parents.
In between that move, he had been jealous that the boys began to get a new father figure in the form of Antoine Beauregard, but Phil knew a good man when he saw one, and also knew that his own tiny apartment could barely house him, let alone the two boys he'd grown to love. So they had spent some time with the English teacher from the middle of Mo-Bo's Sophomore year till summer, when they finally transferred into the Lancaster's care.
After the shooting, Phil had sat at Mo-Bo's side as he slept, reading the kid his favorite books and taking care of things for Danny to keep one more burden off of Mordechai Boaz's shoulders. A couple days after the shooting when Mo-Bo asked Phil to get his Motorcycle-the one he'd been scrounging around his Junkyard for scraps for all those years ago, well, Phil could not be one more part of the universe that told that child no. Not that anyone who has been through a life like his can be called a child. He knew if he kept him here, he would have to buy two "D____ Boaz" headstones instead of one.
Danny hadn't gotten a 24 hour burial, Mo-Bo hadn't been awake to ask for it and they were no contact with their parents. The best Phil had been able to do was the weekend, but his boy had long ridden away from Edenridge at that point, leaving just an email address and the promise to send a new phone number when he could. Nolan had stopped by within a couple weeks to get ahold of the address and strong arm Mo-Bo back into contact, and it was also that same boy that managed to convince one Mordechai Boaz, almost 2 whole years later, to return to Edenridge for a visit. Hopefully it could become more than that with enough support.

Color Code:0072bc

Aces Managerie

Decky

Name

Mordechai Oren Boaz

Nicknames

Decky, Mo-Bo, MOB, Boaz

Age

20

Gender

Male

Sexuality

Bisexual

Relationship Status

Single

TW: CHILD ABUSE, CHARACTER DEATH, DRUG USE, FAMILY LOSS
Appearance Details

• Hair: Black | Straight with a hint of waves when cut short | Decky has a habit of combing his hair with a wet comb in the morning- if he even bothers with that- and then running his hands through his hair for the rest of the day, leaving him with a sort of slicked-back-tousled look more often than not.
• Eyes: Brown
• Height: 5'10
• Body Type: Years of abuse and malnourishment left Decky a little on the skinnier side, while his activities lent to lean muscle forming. This left him with what looks more like a runner's build, letting him easily hide his shape under bulkier clothes and layers.
• Clothing Style: WIP
• Scars, Tattoos and/or Piercings:He's got too many scars to count, most from shattered beer bottles and belts. The notable ones would be the one just above his left hip, where an asshole 15 year old had shivved him in Juvie when he found out he was a Trip-S. There was a ragged burn scar across his collar bone, and while it has distorted a bit as he grew, the word burned into him over time by several of his parents' cigarettes still clearly read BURDEN. His thigh has an angry red scar from where the Human Arsenal that was Charlie Decker had plunged a knife straight into it after pistol-whipping Decky into a daze.
  Tattoo wise, Decky has two stick-n-poke names over his heart; Danny and Lanie. His left shoulder bares the Trip-S tattoo that he got as a young teen. On his left forearm is the newest, showing a detailed gravestone covered in colorful rocks, the years 2005-2020 the only marking on the stone. He has no piercings, as they made no sense to him with as many fights as he got into.

Personality Traits

Decky during school acted about as much the delinquent as his peers and most adults expected him to. He had a rage built from the moment he could feel the emotion, and used any indignity he saw as a reason to outlet a bit of that fire that burned him from the inside out. You were one of the very lucky few if you could genuinely say you know Decky Boaz, but given that it's him you'd know about, you can't be too lucky.
It's completely different when he was around Danny, and often times Lanie as well. He may not be great at expressing his emotions but when it comes to those he cares about, he can be incredibly passionate. However, just like with his anger, he doesn't exactly think everything through and very well may have gone overboard and bordered on smothering. If it got pointed out to him, he would go a bit distant until he could sort out how he felt about that on his own.

Biography

Born and raised in Southie, Decky had a bleak beginning to life; born in the middle of a drug den a whole month early when his parents had been picking up an ounce, his parents just wrapped him up in some newspaper from the ground and took him home when they were good and ready. Surviving on pure miracle and lifeforce alone, he made it to three years old where he was greeted with a new role in life: Big Brother.
Daniel Aaron Boaz was born in much better conditions than Decky, given that at the time his mother had been on parole and her PO was keeping track of the baby's health just as much as hers. Until, of course, he was born and no longer literally attached to her main problem. After that it was once again up to the young ones of the house to fend for themselves, though even at his young age Decky knew that he would keep his parents' hands on him-and away from Danny- as much as possible. These evil people didn't deserve that ball of light. Danny was his and he would protect him.
While this kept Danny relatively safe, it did nothing to keep Decky himself safe. The night his parents chainsmoked and burned "Burden" across his collar bone, he went out to his street corner, 12 years old, and got jumped into the South Side Serpents. He began dealing on that corner the next day. It was also around this time he met Phil at his Junkyard and Garage and began doing mechanics. About a month into his eighth grade year a war broke out between the Trip-S gang and the newbies in town, and less than a week later it reached his neighborhood and his crew. Surviving the fight, managing to stab one of the other crew, and the two year sentence with chance of early Parole did nothing to quell how worried he was about Danny being alone at home for so long. Decky kept his head down as much as possible by sticking with his crew and doing the stupid schoolwork, because Juvie wouldn't even let you escape school while you were there. At his hearing a year and a half later, Decky was released back into the world with part of his parole stipulating that he attend Edenridge High across the tracks. Swell.
Meeting Lanie and getting clean of anything but weed and the occasional party drug, moving out of his parents and taking Danny with him, rediscovering his love for Mechanics and hanging out at Phil's garage, and all the other shit in the intervening two and a half years don't seem too important compared to the biggest thing: The Shooting. They were there for their allotted free breakfast, but Decky had just left Danny to go check on the Autoshop project. He'd told Danny he'd be quick, as his Freshman brother was getting swamped in homework and despite Mordechai not actually knowing what the AP kids studied, he was adamant about helping Danny as much as possible. He was halfway there when he heard the first shot, and it gave him only a seconds pause before he broke out into a run towards the sound. Towards the cafeteria. He slid through the doors and before he could do anything something hard cracked against his temple and sent his head flying to the side, and without giving him a second to catch his breath, Charlie Decker brought the handgun once more across Mordechai's head. He had to have blacked out as he tried to stand, because when his vision cleared again he was staring at a knife embedded to the hilt in thigh. His brother's choked sob made it through his foggy awareness and, as though he was seeing snapshots instead the full thing, Danny was running towards him; the gun went off so close to his ear he lost the ability to hear; Danny stilled; Danny dropped; Decker laughed and fled the area, leaving the brothers to reach out to each other while the living cafeteria members stared on. He remembers blacking out just as their bloody fingers touched.
Waking up and being told Danny hadn't survived was like dying himself, or wishing he had. He had a concussion and a rather blatant limp from the stab wound, but was overall discharged rather quickly, given his emancipation and ability to sign himself out. Everyone in the hospital was talking about what happened, and he even saw several of his schoolmates in the rooms he passed as he left. He moved like an absolute zombie, lost in a world without Danny as his light. He waited for no condolences, attended no funerals, he just went straight to Phil's and grabbed the motorcycle he had been building for himself for years. He took off with Phil as the only link to him.

Family

Alana and Benjamin Boaz- Parents
Danny Boaz-Baby Brother (Deceased)

Relationships

Phil Bristol-Mentor/Mechanic/Owner of Phil's Junkyard and Garage

Lanie Lancaster-Ex-Girlfriend

Nolan Santora-Friend

Misc.

Face Claim: Felix Mallard| Color Code: DC143C
Decky worked at Phil's Junkyard and Garage since he was 12 and Phil found him scrounging through scrap piles.
Theme

Aces Managerie

Time to start getting all my characters and relationship flashbacks in one place

Edenridge (Slice of Life with a Twist - Always Accepting)

Lmao my bad I was checking out the old posts and didnt backtrack

Prey Tell (Or Keep It To Yourself){Accepting Players!}

Akseli and Aharon exchanged wary glances over the top of the Seraphim's newest book before both pairs of eyes turned back to the large broken window. With Darnies' wards in tact and him away, it seemed the older man just outside the window did not notice them watching as he took snapshots of their bar. Luckily, once the man left the alley he wouldn't be able to find his way back for a while; it gave them time to shore up for whatever the fuck that unnerving moment was sure to lead to.

As the door opened their attention turn to the cat that had dragged trouble in. The man was disturbingly attractive, and definitely too dressed up to be in Saints and Sinners as a regular. Akseli slid his hand into his ratty vest pocket, forgoing the silver knuckles in there for the thinner iron ones. Pretty boys like that usually came from one breed around here.

"What the fuck did you just bring so close to us, Fae?" Akseli hissed, a mild rage building in his eyes.
-
Detective Autry Thompson has had better days. Hell, he's had better months. Certainly, even yesterday was better because at least he had one less body to deal with and apparently someone was pissing off their serial killer. The victim looked to have been drained of their blood via two tubes to the neck, which were left embedded even after the killer tossed out the body. Stabbed into the women's chest and holding to it a note was a large silver spike. The note itself read 'Someone else is hunting my prey in jagged, angry letters.

Detective Thompson had had better years.
-
Chasa rolled her eyes at the old man, allowing an excited grin to bleed out for a moment when Simon's baton met the man's chest. She was not ashamed that she had a violent side, though she had it rather contained by her overall caring nature. This small bit of bloodlust only ever came out around those who dared to try and hurt her charge, her creator. She figured with all her restraint she was due her fair amount of twisted pleasures.

She raised an eyebrow at the Vanja's sudden yielding, practically seeing the power of his name wash over and get absorbed by the Fae before her. It was very much like when Darnies had first willingly given her his full name. He only gave the name to Simon, of course, but she was well enough in her magic to tell exactly when the bond, or whatever Fae call it, settled between the two.

"All that strong talk and deluded belief that you knew us at a glance and you give over so quickly," she mused, her smile all teeth and hunger. "And to hear you have given your name before, well, today has sure become interesting."
-
Outside the waterfall, down by the pond, Darnies waved a lazy goodbye to Neirie, who had cocked her head as if feeling something and declared she had to leave for a bit. By the pout on her face, she was no happier to be leaving than he was to see her go.

Seconds after her disappearance, warmth hummed along his arms as someone stepped through the wards of Saints and Sinners, someone of Fae descent entering the bar. No ill will nor good will from this one, they seemed rather ambivilant about the bar. It was enough to get his body moving, wanting to shake off the tingling magic. He put out his blunt and pushed to his feet.

"I'm gonna check in the torture-interrogation-whatever, feel free to come with," he said to Bonnie. "Vie, as always, it was a lovely smoke session." The Nymph smiled and laid back, stretching out on the grass with her feet in the water.

"Likewise, Little Earth."

He passed under the waterfall just in time to here Vanja's true name and Chasa's comment to him, and he pushed over to her with a grin, seeing the fire in her eyes. "Ooh, I know that predatory gleam," he spoke up, grinning up at her. "What, did he try to mess with your head? Did ya tell him what happened to the head of the last Hunter that did that?" The same grin has slipped onto his face, animalistic in the amount of teeth showing, sharper than a knife and more mocking than a funhouse mirror. "I wonder if that guy's buddies ever found it or if they just burned the torso down."