[Dyno Moreno] District One [Fin]

Moreno has been a dead name in the world of One.

Careers spit upon the graves of the name, where what's left is nothing but the memory of what the family used to be. Whispers about how little Ezen didn't live up to the hype of what the Morenos truly could be. Laughter from bigger career families like Lumiere, Fray, Shore, and even the dreaded Le Rouxes of District One leaving them behind in the concrete grounds of the graves they linger around. Remo Moreno, his father, had believed none of the Morenos would truly live up to the namesake of the Moreno legacy. Stuck beneath the stone graves of the past, where no plants grow or flowers bloom, there's only the cold ice of stone and memories of failure.

Dyno Moreno blooms from stone with bright colors and a will strong enough to shake the earth around, blossom through stone and reach the light of the sun. Dyno Moreno is an ember of what's left from the Morenos namesake, burning still, but not as bright as Reyes or Jae had. Born to be a legacy, but never having known of it until he became old enough to make the choice of whether he wanted to learn the skills to kill or abandon the legacy to his name.

Dyno choose to fight.

He's always been a fighter since before his birth. A mother who wasn't meant to have a child like him, especially not a Moreno one. She raised him from birth, a comforting figure who supported his youthful excitement, letting his imaginative mind grow and grow, until he was old enough to understand that there were adventures out there. His mother had always been sweet to him, a reliable source of love, comfort, and just enough strictness to have him learn some discipline and make him better suited for being a career. Once he met his father, he learned of the importance of having something more than just career training.

Days spent marking down ideas into a leather bound journal, meant for only his eyes, letting the words rise and fall on his pages, just like the blood he knew he could spill. Both fell at the center of who he was, always a creative type, but still able to hold his own like his father and the Morenos before him. The other legacy families would say it's a weakness in the soul, but Dyno had blossomed to life in those pages. More times than not, he found himself breaking away from the others with the way he's able to be both ruthless and graceful. Perfection was not apart of his name, but he's grown to seek it out, wanting to glitter like the pretty Lumieres and Le Rouxes or be as deadly as the Shores or Frays. Improvement came in small increments every day, when he would mark down his own training in the lines between his real emotions on journal paper.

"Hey, Dean, Mom says it's your turn to water Pierre."

A groan escapes his throat as he stands up, staring his twin up and down before he sighs, letting the journal close, the cramp in his hand burning. The days were always like this, spent half in his mother's company and half in his father's, always a nuisance and waste of time in his eyes. Neither of them had full custody of one another, the only good thing was them both getting along fairly well. After the first year or so, everything got easier and easier, but some days he doesn't want to leave his mother, knowing there's more opportunities from her side of the family. Richer than his father's own place and life, which felt more cramped every time he spent time there.

His father gave him the most important piece of himself, where his mother could never have. A legacy of a last name, both a burden and a benefit, he carries with pride. Part of him always enjoyed tearing down that Le Roux kid who tried to smooth talk his way out of everything, knowing the Morenos still had it. None of the Morenos were like him, hell he wasn't even related by blood, but he still carried the name with the honor it deserves.

An annoyed groan escapes his throat as he sets to watering Pierre, the ficus that his mother insisted on buying for the reading room, despite no one ever using it, except himself. Always a peaceful place to escape to when he needed to stop overthinking every move he makes. His twin sister was always much better at handling the rest of life, but not him. He was always carrying his journal around to have something to do if he was standing in the corner not talking to anyone. People make him feel insane most days, with words that carry a twinge of annoyance or some emotion he can't read.

His mother always used to brush his hair, whisper that he needed to open up to others more, but every time he's done so, it's been crushing. The world seems to want to put Morenos in early graves, with not only the games. The fluttering of his own heart always speeds up when others watch him with their critical eyes. Perfection is what he lives up to, but no one really cared to see past that. They wanted the Moreno career who tore others down with a frightening accuracy, but no one wanted to know the boy who wrote in his little corner at times.

Dyno Moreno carried a legacy full of hardships, but others only see a challenge in him.

No one ever can see what's behind the name.

Only he'll know what's behind the Moreno name.

No longer dead, but still blooming through stone.

A symbol of their survival because after every death there's new life.