Altair "Robin" Grayson ~ District Nine

Just walking down the streets of District Nine, your eyes would probably just skip across the boy named as Altair. He isn't much different from yourself or any other boy his age. Nothing unusual or drastic sticks out in the mind after a quick glance. A skinny teenage boy with dark hair, his eyes turned to the sidewalk.

Of course that's only the beginning. If anyone was given a chance to really take in the boy, they'd discover much more about him. For starters, the eyes would find that underneath his baggy clothes provided by the orphanage, Altair is not "skinny." Lean muscle works under his skin and has proven to be quite strong. A true observer would see the way he curls his fingers into fists and the tenseness of his jaw as he shuffles through the streets. How he is no longer a "boy" anymore at all. The bones in his face are no longer hidden under a baby face and an Adam's apple bobs up and down his neck. Though, the best clue for an outsider to see that this orphan is no longer a helpless child is to look into his yes. They're a shade of brown so dark they blend in with his pupils. Altair isn't very good with eye contact, always looking away before anyone sees too much. He feels that his eyes may give away too much about him. They show ow much pain he has been through, how much he has lost and what motivates him to walk around the District at dusk. They're older than the rest of him and have seen things that no child should ever have to witness.

He has a simple kind of style, this boy in the orphanage. Plain clothes, usually darker colors, sturdy boots. Nothing fancy, nothing so bright and colorful as to draw too much attention to himself. His voice can be loud and commanding when the time comes for it but when he is not leading, Altair isn't much of a talker. Altogether, Altair is the type of boy you'd notice sitting in a corner, thinking to himself. You might briefly give him a glance while walking down the street but never a second look. That's the thing about the boy so skilled in leading, he knows how to disguise himself as a follower.

If one were to judge Altair at first glance they would label him as "moody." The boy always seemed to mope about the orphanage and the streets of the district. Usually with a hood pulled over his head and eyes to the ground casting a shadow across his face. If you ever wished to seek him, Altair would probably be hidden away in some corner, fiddling with a gadget or just thinking to himself. He's the thinker type, always watching and digesting what is happening around him. Of course that gets him into trouble sometimes, but it also makes him a leader. He's quick to intervene if a person is in any type of danger evident by the many times he's arrived back at the orphanage with a black eye from a would be mugger. He's the type of person who cannot stand injustice. So he'll be the hero, the one who steps in to prevent a man from dragging someone into an alley way. Altair desires to help, to clean the District of crime one petty thief at a time. Maybe, by picking off these criminals he could come face to face with the one that truly matters. The man who made him what he is today.

This behavior also applies to all the kids in the state home. If a peer is doing something idiotic, or two teens are eyeing each other with curled fists he'll intervene. Usually the two will back down, retreating to separate corners of the room because if there is one person you do not want to get into a fight with it is Altair Grayson. Defender of the weak and protector of the District. Well, if there was one person Altair tended to oversee, it would be Miss Starr Fuerta. At first when they were living in the orphanage the boy saw the girl almost as an annoyance- "Don't touch that, Starr." "Starr, you'll burn yourself." "Starr, don't!" It seemed like he was always following that girl around making sure she didn't fry up into a crisp. Always heading into hallways to make sure no candles were burning that may catch her attention. Eventually it dawned on him that if he considered the red haired girl such a nuisance that he could just let her grill her eyebrows off and be down with it. Only he couldn't. He'd look into those eyes and see something he used to have within himself. Childlike playfulness, curiosity about everything, hope. So Altair grew up defending the fire girl from everything, even herself because she was his to protect. He'd never admit it, but that's how he saw it. She was his fire child and she needed the flame as much as he needed her.

There were others, of course, that Altair was protective of in the orphanage. Others, like himself, who saw the good in the world and wanted it to cover everything. One of his best friends was a boy a few years older than himself, Cypher. A poor boy who had chanced upon bad luck like others might on leaves on a fall day. Nonetheless he had a kind spirit and Altair put his trust in him. He's like that, the Robin boy, he's very withdrawn with his trust until he sees that you are worthy of it. There are few Altair puts his complete trust in, and all for different reasons. Trust to have his back in a pinch, trust to do the right thing, trust to never leave, trust to hold his heart. Although, that last part he'd never tell anyone. He tries not to be very sentimental unless the time calls for it.

Altair proved to be a prime suspect for teasing when he first entered the government home. He was a small boy and given his dark demeanor and habit to perch in a corner, the kids had given him a rather unfortunate nickname. Robin. When they first mocked him with it they demanded he whistle a little tune and would not leave until they had it. The poor boy was almost in tears. Almost. Even then Altair had grown into a hard individual by the sights he had witnessed. Still as time went on the name stuck and he soon began to enjoy it. The Robin was an interesting little bird and flew over the heads of the children who had thought it to be a cruel name. He took pride in that, that maybe one day he'd too would fly. So he worked and one day Altair Grayson did fly as much as any human can. A boy of only ten standing on the edge of the roof of the orphanage in the middle of the night. It wasn't that far of a leap to the next building- just about a five foot gap. It was nothing, he could take it in a single bound and he jumped and he flew. His body floated over the expanse, the ground below him and only air as his companion. Spreading out his arms he flew right up until the moment he slammed into the next roof and with desperate fingers scratched at the shingles until he slid off the end and crashed into a dumpster. There was, of course, the walk of shame into the orphanage when he had to wake up the workers to tend to a broken arm. His wing was broken, but not clipped and he would still fly.

It was one of those secret pass times Altair enjoyed all by himself, hopping from roof to roof with only the glow of the moon to light his path. It may seem strange and dangerous but it was refreshing to have the night air in his lungs and the midnight shadows concealing his fate. You never know what you'll witness from a quiet roof top, or what you can stop from happening. As much of a loner as he is, Altair is as defensive of his friends as you can get. It has been a tough life, for all of them and he would not bear to see them convert to criminal acts because of that past. A lot of orphans do commit to a life of mugging innocent civilians and setting fire to a poor family's house that only the son could escape...

Altair has lived a hard and long life in his seventeen years and he would not throw the rest of it away to become a vagrant living in the gutter. He wants to clean up this city and make a better place for everyone. People tell him that his ideas are crazy and impossible but they said the same thing about flying, and Altair can glide through a summer's night like any bird of prey.

The life of young Altair Grayson started out like most. He was born and lived in a comfortable home for his young life. His parents worked in the factories but always found time for time with Altair. Or, at least, that's what he remembers. There had been some dealings between his parents and the underbelly of the District. However young Altair knew nothing of that when, at the tender age of ten, he woke up to find his home engulfed in flames. The fire licked at his skin, they'd surely burn his feathers clear off and he'd never fly again. Dashing out, he stood on the sidewalk watching as the red tongues devoured the entirety of his house, swallowing his parents whole. He never saw them die, yet they did. He didn't get to hold them in his arms or say any goodbyes they were just gone and the young boy had been thrown into the state home with other children. Some had been confused as to why they were there and then there were the bitter ones, like Altair. That fire had been no accident and his first horrendous week int he state home he vowed to catch whoever took his home away from him. He would track them down and give them exactly what they deserved.

After surviving such an ordeal you can understand how much of a nuisance it was to have a girl who constantly stuck her fingers in the candle wicks. It was painful to see the girl, day after day, stare at the tiny flames mesmerized by it. As Altair grew older he knew that he and Starr saw fire in two very different lights. On saw it as life and the other saw nothing but destruction and lost. As the years between the fire and the present grow, Altair is more open to slipping his fingertips in and out of the candles reach. It's exhilarating to put yourself in such a dangerous position only to come out unscathed. So he did just that, only on a completely different level.

There had been a Peacekeeper in the District a younger man who, Altair saw, had the same hunger for justice as he did. He had been assigned to research the fire that had stolen the boy's parents and Altair insisted on helping. A boy as young as him would only muddy up an investigation only this Keeper was different, he took the law into his own hands and Altair demanded he get his own helping. This was the man that had taught Grayson all the tricks of the trade- how to follow a suspect, how to slip into the shadows and how to, properly, leap from a building's edge when the situation called for it. The Keeper had enjoyed the boy's little nickname too and used it more than his actual name. Robin, the boy who flew through the streets with a Keeper and brought down criminals. However, as Altair grew up he found that he had learned all he could from this Peacekeeper and, despite being better than some of the officers on the force, was still considered second rate. Grayson had once dreamed of becoming a Peacekeeper- a far fetch for an orphan from Nine, but still it could happen if he tried hard enough. Only even the men who are supposed to deliver justice can be corrupt, Altair saw that clear as day and would not have a thing to do with it. They were filthy vermin those men and women in white uniforms. They were cruel to residents and some even committed the crimes they were assigned to. Altair quickly realized that if he wanted to peruse the rat that had taken his life from him he would have to do it alone.

Only that plan didn't work out entirely as he planned. Instead of sneaking out of the orphanage late at night to live "among the shadows" or what else the skinny fourteen year old had planned to do, he stayed. He had plenty of people to protect here- Starr, Cypher and all of the kids in the teenager wing. They despised the tumor of crime that was growing on the District just as much as he did so he showed them a few of the tricks he learned from the Keeper. He shared all the things he knew, which were a lot. It may not look like it, but Robin stuck his nose in quite a few books during the day.

If you ever find yourself roaming the streets of District Nine look up. You may just be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the boy who stepped through fire, the boy who's as quick as a shadow, the boy who can fly. Yes, if you're fast enough you may spot the silhouette of Robin, the boy wonder.