Nova Moreno - D1

"Hey, break it up!"

The caretaker rushed in to disband the two fighters before they socked each other's eyes out. Neither of them could be older than twelve, ripening in their youth yet wasting it by scrapping and shouting rather than playing and laughing with the other children, the little girl especially. Fingers were tangled in her thick, onyx hair, but yanking at the roots would not stop this fireball from throwing punches, and the caretaker was forced to tear her away by pulling on the back of her shirt until the boy released her. "I told you to stop bothering this boy, Nova! When will you ever listen to me?" the caretaker was verbally chastising her, as if words could break through her stubborn exterior. "He hit me first, he was asking for it!"

"I don't care who started it, Nova, fighting isn't the answer."

"It is if you don't want to get your ass kicked."

With that, the caretaker sighed and locked the two brawlers in separate rooms, forcing Nova specifically to sit in silence and reflect upon her misdeeds. Instead of following orders, however, she climbed through the window and decided to look for her "crew" instead; the band of misfits that was her only family, not the pathetic excuse of a parent the caretaker pretended to be. In this community home, wamrth and family values did not exist. It was survival of the fittest in a ring full of bullies and miscreants, and there was only one rule: fight fire with fire, or burn.

And Nova was at the very top of the food chain.

The incident with the boy was one of many she had encountered in her early youth. She was vulnerable, after all, what with her failure to reach a significant growth spurt and lack of natural muscle tone that was signature to the typical careers in district one. She was shorter than the majority, standing at a measly 5'2" with a petite body to match. She developed the blessings of curves after she turned thirteen, but it didn't change much. She was still a potential victim ripe for the picking, seemingly easy to overwhelm and dominate. That was always the first mistake they made. The second was a pathetic attempt at chivalry, letting her launch the first attack because she was a "lady". Some of them never had the opportunity to stand back up. She learned from a young age that she was a target and needed protection, but not from others. Strangers, friends, even family were unreliable. Ask her parents, the bastards that abandoned her when all she had needed was a warm bed and a loaf of bread to keep her happy. They proved their worth the instant they dropped her at the doorstep of the community home, desperate to escape the torment of unplanned parenthood before anyone could see them as they really were: irresponsible, cowardly, and selfish.

Nova promised herself to be the opposite. She would accept responsibility for her mischievous actions, she would stand tall and mighty when challenged by the greatest of enemies, and she would watch over those who were dear to her. Friend or foe, anyone in the community center could admit that she was never deprived of her strength, even when losing the upper hand in a street scrap. That was who she raised herself to be: courageous, valiant, bold, and indestructible.

Perhaps that was what had interested the Morenos.

She remembered the first time she saw them. She was fourteen years old, loitering by the entrance of the community home with brass knuckles in one hand and a stolen cigarette in the other. She was surrounded by her crew, a gang of four girls and two boys that were dressed in the same, loose, ratty clothing donated to the community home. She was obviously the leader; her body language, the way they stood in a circle around her, it was evidence of her superiority. Even when she was the smallest and far from the prettiest there was no doubting her status. With her newly-defined muscle tone, calculating brown eyes and facial expressions carved of cold stone, she could appear intimidating if one knew the details of her reckless reputation. She just chose not to flaunt it like the other egotistical careers.

The infamous Moreno couple were approaching the doors of the community home, and Nova's comrades were all watching them with dreaded familiarity. "Who're they?" she inquired between puffs of smoke, quick to notice her companions' diverted attention. "You don't recognize them? Those are the Moreno parents." That was all the information she needed. The Morenos were a legend in this particular area, and Nova knew all about their recruitments. She had never heard of them searching in these parts, though, and the prospect of them possibly stealing one of her crew members made her nerves quiver anxiously.

"You think they're looking to adopt?" As the couple vanished into the home, Nova flicked away ashes and masked her concerns with a careless frown, brown eyes darting to each of them in search for eager faces. None seemed hopeful. "I don't see why else they'd be here," replied one of the girls casually as she shrugged and took the cigarette Nova soon offered her. Nova answered this with a shrug of her own, biting the inside of her cheek as she battled the urge to wander inside and investigate. As much as the curiosity killed her she didn't want to go pulling strings with such a prestigious family. No, she would mind her own business and carry on with her life as if the Morenos didn't exist. They wouldn't be interested in her, anyway; she may be tough, but she was not the typical career girl. She was a bit too rowdy, too disorganized in her passion for breaking the rules of conformity. Not a single soul had reported any interest in adopting her, and things wouldn't just change out of the blue for no apparent reason. That's not how life's mechanics functioned, Nova knew that.

"What is the meaning of this?" the caretaker's screech was a pitch Nova had conditioned herself to disregard. She marched into their circle of peace and snatched the cigarette out of Nova's hand. "I've told you a million times before, no smoking in the home!" The woman tossed the lit cigarette into the garbage, prompting Nova to roll her eyes and tighten her jaw. "I'm not inside the building, it shouldn't matter," she grumbled, crossing her arms in front of her chest as her crew members mimicked her actions and all turned to face the caretaker as one intimidating wall of vicious teenagers. The women's shoulders tensed up. "You're within the boundaries of the facility and that's enough for me. Where did you get them, anyway? You haven't been off stealing again, have you?" Theft, that was another rotten habit of hers. "That's none of your business." Before the woman could spout another word Nova spun on her heels and strutted away, her comrades quickly following suit and shooting the woman dirty looks before chuckling and slipping through the front doors of the facility. That's when Nova walked straight into the boy.

"Watch it!" the boy was around her age, and with the aggression of a wild zoo animal. He impulsively grabbed the fabric of her shirt and pulled, but whether it was a true threat or not completely slipped Nova's mind. Acting upon the instincts of a tigress she stepped on the toe of his boot and jammed the bone of her elbow into his nose before he could blink. With a yelp, followed by several gasps from onlookers, the boy stumbled back leaving Nova unharmed. "Don't ever touch me like that again," she hissed, flipping her hair over her shoulders as the boy wiped blood away from his nostrils. Her crew members snorted and rewarded her with a few pats on the shoulder, evidently agreeing with her course of action. Nova didn't care; it was survival of the fittest, and the others knew better then to cross her. This boy was no different.

"Nova, heads up," one of her comrades whispered, and when she glanced back he gestured to a couple lingering in the corner of the room: The Morenos. Their eyes were glued to her, as if she were in the spotlight and they were her eager audience. She stood frozen in place. What was she supposed to do? Smile, nod, wave? Should she even bother to acknowledge them? They were a respected family name, one of the most well-known career raisers in the district. It would be impolite to ignore them, but since when did Nova care about what was proper and improper? She decided to take her usual route and averted her eyes before her facial features could even twitch. Then, she walked away before the caretaker barged in and absorbed the scene with a reddened face of disbelief and agitation.

Nova saw them a again a few times afterward, but it wasn't until a year later that she met with them personally.

It was under rather unfortunate circumstances that they happened to see her again. A despised enemy of hers had foolishly decided to take advantage of one of her own by swiping their cigarettes and beating them to a bloody pulp. Infuriated, Nova didn't hesitate to take matters into her own hands and approach the boy with eyes burning like hot coals. The Morenos happened to waltz in as soon as the first blow was delivered, straight across the boy's jaw. She was almost sure she heard something crack, but that didn't matter; he was returning fire, and soon enough the two were scrapping as a crowd of teens gathered to watch and chant for their favorite. The boy was strong, with arms like indestructible iron rods, but while he could throw a deadly punch she was a difficult target to strike, and whenever she was struck she would hop back on her feet without a moment's hesitation. With her swift movements she evaded the majority of his attacks and lunged like a persistent viper until she snagged the upper hand. The fight ended as soon as the caretakers interrupted, pleading her to release him as she twisted his arm behind him and dug the tip of her shoe into his spine, his body having long been forced to the floor face first.

Not long after her punishment, one of the caretakers pulled her aside and told her that the Morenos were interested in adopting her. The idea shocked her, at first. Then the dread set in. She would lose her family, her freedom, perhaps her life if she wasn't careful. The rumors were still circulating about a graveyard behind the Moreno mansion, where the fallen careers were buried when they failed to defend themselves from their own family members. The concept was disturbing in itself, but what choice would she have? If the Morenos wanted to take her as their own, they would.

So they did.

Despite her internal protests she was never rude to them. On the contrary, she smirked at every word they said, pretending to brush the situation off as minor even though it would transform her lifestyle completely. She was supposed to be fearless, after all, and it was in her best interest to maintain the tough-girl reputation rather than cower like her parents would. She spoke casually, comfortably, and confidently as they invited her to join their fighting community, and made no attempts to protest. She didn't want to abandon her friends and the life she had worked so hard for, but she knew there would be no rewinding time. What's finished was finished, and once the papers were signed she parted from her precious family and found herself cast into a new environment. It was not as unfamiliar as she had first anticipated; children attacking one another unexpectedly was no different than what occurred on a regular basis in the community home. This world, however, took weapons into consideration. Swords, knives, spears - there was not a hand without silver in this house, and she realized within a day that her bare hands and brass knuckles would not ensure her safety like they once did. Instead, they could only serve as a last resort, and again she could be seen as vulnerable. This time, however, she was, but she would not let herself be slain too easily. Just like the community home this home had one, simple rule that was easy to follow. A rule that could save her life someday if she chose to obey it rather than betray it.

Trust nobody.