Splassius Spray

Lucius Clay Berra is the youngest Roomie, and that's the first thing he'll tell you, usually right before he proves it doesn't matter. He grew up in clouds of aerosol with a hood up and a song screaming, and he's been putting his name on walls ever since. He's fearless in a specific way. He hasn't lived enough reps to know what he's supposed to be scared of, and that not-knowing is exactly what lets him climb the thing everyone else freezes in front of.

He doesn't have a fear of heights, because he never looks down. Most people see a wall and can't get past how tall it is. He's tagged enough of them to know most walls are just five feet wide once you're actually on them. Every obstacle is just something with a way past it, and he'd rather find the way than ask if there is one. He doesn't weigh the consequence of a message. He only cares about the message. He jumps in the deep end because nobody told him there was a shallow one, and getting it wrong is just how he learns to get it right.

He believes fonts talk, that you hear the voice before you read a single word, and that you can't download what he does. You have to feel it. He moves like the boxer he's named after, dancing while he works, crowning himself, throwing five things at once just to prove he belongs. Tell him to be careful and he'll tag the warning. He refuses to let anything sharp get soft.

He sticker-bombs everything until it looks like the inside of a Wahoo's Fish Taco. He's coming for the older Roomies, Slim especially, learning the digital world so he can be a threat in both. And there's one rule he'll die on: if he's good enough, he's old enough. Nobody's talked him out of it, mostly because nobody's been able to prove him wrong.

When it's his turn to read a transmission, he goes in hot, trips over one of the big words, powers right through it, and dares you to say something. He's not waiting for permission and he's not asking if he's allowed. You'll go to tell him this is the part where he slows down. Says who?