Boots

Enyo Dayholt

Boots was born with the name Enyo Dayholt and was raised by their mother Cyra Dayholt on the 6th ring of the Orion (Ring 6: Plague Borough). As they received little to no formal education, Enyo learned to think quick and trust their instincts. Losing his mother to illness during his teen years caused little change in his means of survival, although things became notably lonelier. Looking for a way forward they decided to plant roots and develop some prowess on the streets where they’d grown up.

As opposed to joining up with the local criminal hierarchy he figured his skills may be more suited to the Orion Police Force. Initially rejected due to lack of education and training, Enyo developed a bitter taste and a desire to prove them wrong. This drive was recognized by Titus Orman, a long-time officer of the force who had his own grievances with the way things were run. Happy to see his higher-ups humbled, Titus took Enyo personally under his wing, and trained them personally in the necessary combat and other skills to succeed. While this wasn’t the most pleasant era of Enyo’s life, it was one of the most formative. He built a great deal of respect for his teacher – who first assigned him the nickname “Boots”.

After a few years of this training Boots was finally welcomed onto the force. Although Titus had told them what he could about the disgraceful inner workings of the law enforcement on this ring, only now did they truly understand how deeply the corporate criminal underbelly had corrupted the organization they had worked so hard to be part of. While he tried to fight the corruption and do his duty on the streets and in the books, he quickly found it impossible to do so with any level of relative safety. Over the years he felt himself slipping into the pattern and struggling to uphold his previous motivation. He could even feel Titus (who was now his colleague as well as his mentor) growing disappointed with his slipping sense of duty.

That was the truth they lived until the murder of Byrd Fitrei.

Something about this case filled Boots with a vigor to see it through and find the answers they almost never found. After a great deal of digging, they realized just how few investigative skills they had truly learned from the force, and started to openly question and protest the issue. They came to recognize that the force was little more than a means for the hidden scum of the ring to impose their will on the people. As they helplessly watched the case go cold, they began formulating a plan to leave, but were beaten to the punch – literally – and lost their badge before they had a chance to fully prepare.

Blacklisted and without work, he found himself living back in the slums where he’d grown up. He decided to devote his time to passively continuing his search for answers – figuring there was nothing else to be done. In his efforts he found himself drawn to collection of random objects, and susceptible to vice. Now he is living in desperation – not only for a means of survival but for purpose, and answers.

After letting these new drugs guide his mind through hours of research, boots found himself in a cycle, endlessly recounting the events of the past few days over and over in his head. It was like he was experiencing it all over again, with a new lens of detail and clarity he hadn't asked for. As he ran through it all again, he was led back to their conversation with crumbs. The look on his face, the silence in his throat, it was all strangely familiar. The memory swirled in Boot’s mind as he sat paralyzed on the couch. Something jolted in him, like some new poison pulsing through his body. He stood, lighting a cigarette as he shuffled out the door, leaving his new roommates to rest. They would be fine without him, and might not even notice that he's gone. He walked down the street with an unfamiliar jitteriness in his hands. He tucked them in his pockets, crossed his arms and leaned against a wall, but in the end he settled with the sensation and let them hang at his sides. As the headlights of a taxi approached, crumbs’ face flashed in his eyes again. Without thought or control, boot raised an arm to flag down the vehicle. He got in, and said something to the driver... Something, although he doesn't quite remember what. Nonetheless the taxi sped towards what boots knew was the 6th ring of Orion. He spent much of the ride carefully examining the composition of the floorboard carpet, until the gritty voice of the cab driver broke him from his stupor. Without the mind to tip the man, boots put out his cigarette on the back seat and shut the door behind him to silence the obnoxious cursing of this poor stranger.

  Boots was alone now. Before him rose of unkempt apartments shot into the sky. Between them, a damp and dark alley greeted him with a disconcerting welcome. he didn't want to be here, and he wasn't sure what part of him had told that driver to bring him here. He hadn't seen this region of the plague borough - let alone these buildings, this alley - in years. But the cold, magical fluid coursing through his body forced his legs to carry him forward against his will, and he found himself soon engulfed in the darkness where are you once hid and slept alongside his mother’s dying form.

“hey…mom…” he said, hardly recognizing the shiver in his own voice. “I’m…home…”

with the deep and shaking sigh, he pressed his back into one of the brick walls that lined this hidden place and let himself slide onto the cold ground. a rush of memories began to wash over him, and he reached in his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes. His hands trembled as he tried to pull one from the pack, and in his frustration and the racing of his mind he exploded with a scream and through the box at the wall across from him. The pack splashed into a puddle a few feet away. booth tried to catch his breath, I'm sure we're all this had come from. Was it the drugs? Was it these people? Was it him? It was too much, and with this new fuel his mind was all too happy to run wild with these ideas.

  He spent a few minutes that felt like days sitting alone in the dark, before a voice broke through his constant thoughts. “Nice place you’ve got here, but it seems a little damp to be airing out all this dirty laundry.”

boot instinctively pulled his gun from a tulster and fired a shot towards the voice, keeping his head down. He was forced to look, however, when he realized that no sound had come from the shot. He had felt the kick, he could smell the smoke, but where is the sound? He looked first at his gun, which seemed completely unaware of this new development, then up at the figure who had spoken.

  “Who the hell are you?” Boots shouted as he got to his feet. But as he stood he realized that the words hadn’t made it past his lips. “You seem like someone who knows this place pretty well. You should know then that not all conversations on these streets should be had at full volume.” The figure says sternly before waving a hand.

The sounds of the city flooded back into Boot’s ears, noise he hadn’t even realized was missing. He stood with his gun at his side, carefully watching the dark shape as they took a few steps towards him.

“What’re you…what do you want?” Boots was this time caught off guard by the sound of his own voice as it filled the alley. The figure stayed quiet, but continued forward. As they stepped out of a beam of moonlight and into the darkness they seemed to vanish. Boots felt simultaneously alone and under the heat of a spotlight. The stranger suddenly reappeared right in front of him, and Boots swung his pistol instinctively. With a hard hit to his gut and another to his chin, he landed hard on the ground, groaning as he tried to shake off his daze.

“You’re with them, aren’t you?” they said, almost matter-of-factly. Boots rolled over and grumbled, refusing to answer. A hand came down and picked him up forcefully, pressing him into the wall “Aren’t you?”

Boots grunted, spitting in the stranger’s face “What’s it to you?”

They forced their forehead hard against Boots’, pressing his head back against the wall “If you’re going to fight this fight, you’re going to need more than this.” The voice was full of venom now, and Boots was forced to stare into the blank mask pushing hard into his head.

The tight grip on his clothes loosened, and Boots steadied himself against the wall as the figure took a step back. As Boots looked up, he was met by an outstretched hand, as if this stranger was calling a truce.

“You know that, too. I can see it. You need more, you need to learn.” The hand twitched, as if to remind Boots that it was waiting for him “I can teach you.”

Boots’ eyes darted from the hand, to the mask, to the end of the alley, and the darkness that surrounded them. After several moments he hesitantly picked his gun up off the ground, sliding it back into his holster before turning and shaking the stranger’s hand.

“Smart man.” The voice said And everything went dark.


After becoming infected by Spores from The Void Boots entered a dark decline. With little hope besides a cure that could be found at Tano's. Breaking in with The Agitators he discovered a necklace that could keep the plague at bay and rededicated himself to the cause. Leaping into battle Boots was active in The Convulsion of Reality and later built a seat of power nearby to study the shadowy power of The Void.

Relationships

Boots

Student

Towards Titus Orman

0
0

Titus Orman

Mentor

Towards Boots

0
0

Acid

Drug Dealer

Towards Boots

0
0

Boots

Customer

Towards Acid

0
0

Ghost

Student

Towards Boots

0
0

Boots

Mentor

Towards Ghost

0
0

Boots

Student

Towards Ghost

0
0

Ghost

Mentor

Towards Boots

0
0

Venom

Ex-Boyfriend

Towards Boots

0
0

Boots

Ex-Boyfriend

Towards Venom

0
0

Species
Year of Birth
124 HE 28 Years old
Parents
Spouses
Siblings
Children
Pronouns
He/They
Aligned Organization
Other Affiliations