✍ toeing the line → aspen & marlow
For as long as Aspen could remember, he'd had every inch of the Enmity-Comity border memorised. Though it wasn't tangible, he knew each building it stretched between, the benches it sliced in half, adjacent houses whose neighbours' children walked separate ways to school and whose parents shot one another dirty looks through their windows. The line wasn't visible, but it was still there, and it was respected. Aspen felt an odd reverence towards it, that nonexistent standard that was followed by the entirety of the city. Gang graffiti traced the walls that sat along the border, even the city's maintenance team knowing better than to erase the markings that claimed clan territory. Ever since he was young, Aspen'd made it a habit to stroll the border almost everyday, seeking out Comity recruits who'd found their way over to the wrong side of town. It was a sort of target practice for him, tracking them across the city and making them pay for even considering crossing the line. Often he sent them stumbling home into the arms of his brother, blood streaking their once-immaculate clothes and tears staining their pale cheeks.
For the past half-hour he'd been slinking through the shadows, careful not to overstep the border as he followed a semi-familiar tuft of blonde hair through the streets of New York. The boy'd crossed onto the wrong side long ago, but Aspen opted to lull him into a false sense of security before making his move, silent steps leaving no audible trace of his presence. Over time he began to get closer, moving in on his prey, near enough to catch glimpses of the other boy's eyes scanning the area. When forty-five minutes had passed he began to grow bored, and decided it was time to finally make his move. With practiced agility and speed, Aspen went up in flames, using his fire to teleport directly in front of his target, lips bared in a feral, wicked smile. "Bit lost, are we?" he hissed, grabbing the boy by his neck and lifting him slightly off the ground to slam him into the brick wall at his back, fingers digging into his jawbone. "You know how Enmity feels about trespassers, Sprout. Give me one good reason not to lynch you with your own intestines and make an example of you."