Profile
"Woe unto the man who undermines the art of confidence!"
SEX
MALE
AGE & GRADE
16; SOPHOMORE
DOB
DOB
2 MAY
HEIGHT
5'0" | 152 CM
ETHNICITY & HOMELAND
GREEK-IRISH AMERICAN
NATIONAL HARBOR, MARYLAND USA | ENGLAND
NATIONAL HARBOR, MARYLAND USA | ENGLAND
SHSL SPECIALTY
The Con-Artist
A talent man has been born into, one that he has been honing for years, is one worth an invitation! The craft of conning isn't one that should be belittled, but rather feared. From school fundraisers to random passersby on the pier, Denny has been mastering the art of manipulation for as long as he can remember. Reading the body language of people around him has become second nature, granting him insight that allows him the chance to gain others' trust, steer conversations, predict outcomes, and most importantly? Reap the profits of his targets, also known as "marks". Although he prefers to work alone, he isn't adverse to appointing a shill should a scheme call for one. Even then, he'll end up swindling the accomplice after promising them a share. Whether he's keeping up with someone in a long-term scam or selling fraudulently doctored lottery tickets, he's your go-to shark.
A talent man has been born into, one that he has been honing for years, is one worth an invitation! The craft of conning isn't one that should be belittled, but rather feared. From school fundraisers to random passersby on the pier, Denny has been mastering the art of manipulation for as long as he can remember. Reading the body language of people around him has become second nature, granting him insight that allows him the chance to gain others' trust, steer conversations, predict outcomes, and most importantly? Reap the profits of his targets, also known as "marks". Although he prefers to work alone, he isn't adverse to appointing a shill should a scheme call for one. Even then, he'll end up swindling the accomplice after promising them a share. Whether he's keeping up with someone in a long-term scam or selling fraudulently doctored lottery tickets, he's your go-to shark.
ITEMS & WEAPON
► MP3 PLAYER + EARPHONES
► RED SWISS ARMY KNIFE
► MALE MANNEQUIN
► SLINGSHOT
KEY FEATURES
IF LOOKS COULD KILLScruffy, plum coloured hair outlines the boyish contour of his face. His eyes, a bright and sharp shade of gold, waver between wide and intrigued or narrowed and dusky. His thick, black eyebrows are heavier towards the center. He may be petite, but that doesn't necessarily make him scrawny...!
FASHION FORWARDHis wardrobe at home is extensive, spanning a whole walk-in closet. However, the school only permits that you bring two weeks worth. Such a shame... His arrival attire was a schoolboy uniform, complete with a large bow tie and thigh highs. Other outfits may consist of scarves, cardigans that reach his ankles, and skinny jeans.
PAIN IN THE NECKDenny now wears a collar around his neck from when he was decapitated during Phase 2. The collar is about two inches in height, but a thin sticking plaster covers it from the jawline down. This keeps the affected area concealed and free of infection. The back has a small and bright pink plus symbol on it, and the sides have latches.
QUIET — APPREHENSIVE — ANALYTICAL
Naturally, Denny is someone who can be hard to read from time to time because his body language matches not with what he's actually feeling. Ask him a question and a pondering look on his face will only yield a cheerful goodbye. If he's feeling sick, expect not to see any signs until the moment he collapses on the floor. Attempts at wanting to befriend you may head south later in your relationship, and expressions of melancholy could be an act. There's no telling with this boy... "Haha?"
Although he may have ulterior motives, there's nothing that beats the company of like-minded people. He doesn't like "normies" unless he needs something from them, so it's refreshing when a fellow peer shows that they, too, have little patience for flower-picking idiots. "Pretentious bookworms are annoying, but absolute ignoramuses and cowering cucks are the worst." Should you choose to build a good camaraderie with Denny, expect to hear from him often.
Under everything though, Denny does not take death lightly. He's fearful of seeing dead bodies, and even more fearful of dying himself. Likewise, his personality is not as it actually seems. His true colours paint the picture of an emotionally detached boy. He reacts only when necessary and likes to keep things short and to the point, so much that he'll ignore you if there's nothing more to say or he doesn't take any interest in what you have to offer. "Talk is cheap."
LIKES
► Fashionable people and fashion in general. This doesn't necessarily mean big, ostentatious outfits you'd see on a runway, but rather the art of looking aesthetically pleasing—whether you take your time composing an outfit or tailor yourself a new one. People like that are admirable for Denny, and he is one of them.
► Food wise, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are an all time favourite. Bananas in them are the absolute worst, as is pineapple on pizza. Dark soda's good and so is dark chocolate. Pickles are delicious in any form. Has an addiction to chewing gum. Potato chips? Yum.
► People who are tech-savvy. It's just another absolutely admirable thing for him. If he hadn't grown up the way he did, he probably would have been a computer geek. Alas, now all he can do is admire from afar. Maybe one day he'll learn the trade of computers and what literally makes them tick. Phones are cool, too.
► Sharp or shiny things, double points if sharp AND shiny! This is just a natural thing for him, as a conman. His eye is trained to see through fake diamonds, blunt blades, and toy guns. When a real one comes by, that's when he knows he's hit the jackpot. It's also a reminder how far he's come with his talent.
► Ferris wheels. Perhaps this is irrelevant now, but where he lived on the outside, there was one always present near the pier. He finds them calming.
► Classic rock music, rap music from the 90s, and pop music by female singers of this day and age only. All other music is rubbish.
► Dressing up his mannequin with the outfit he plans to wear tomorrow.
► Being underestimated, whether for his title or physical appearance. Otherwise, he doesn't mind people making assumptions about him based on his personality. After all, it's a facade concocted by the boy himself. Such is exactly what he intended of you, should you decide to judge him.
► Sports. He doesn't understand the point, as in there's nothing to be accomplished. There are goals in-game, but what are the goals outside of them? Anybody with a sporty talent is a nobody to him.
► He doesn't mind his height all that much, but he hates it when others mind it. Especially worse are very tall people who make joke of his height. Tasteless!
► Hospitals. If possible, he will stray from the room that best resembles one inside the academy.
"Okay."
"I was born in National Harbor, Maryland. It's funny... During my time spent in the UK, I've been wanting to spell it as harbour with a U. Anyway, it's a quaint little town by the pier. Hell, it's so fucking small that I just tell people I live down the street from Obama. It's really close to the capital, so we got a lot of tourists (which is good for me)."
"My family? Uhhh..."
"My mom passed away immediately after she gave birth to me, so of course I've only ever seen her from pictures and videos. She was one of those scrap-booking moms, so I can imagine what she was like through all the days she'd documented for me. She didn't know she was going to die that day, I think, so the scrap-booking wasn't premeditated from her days being numbered. I think she just did that out of wanting to be a classic 'back in my day' sort of granny. Huh? Oh, her name was Aida."
"My father's named Memphis. Yeah, I don't know what my grandparents were thinking... It's a good thing he's a doctor, so everyone just calls him Dr. Malone."
"So when my mom died, he kind of lost his fucking marbles and by that I mean he lost his job. Smooth. He doesn't want to tell me why, but I think he did something bad... I don't like to pry with him. That's disrespectful; he's not a mark. Right, so we lost our home after that, and we lived in a motel for eons."
"When you hear motel, you think of the word shabby. Ours wasn't all that bad; it was the streets that made me who I am today. It's the usual sort of sidewalk scene, you know? The homeless, drifters looking to cop a couple ounces, prostitutes, people like m—What?—Oh, drugs. Couple ounces of Mary Jane. Opioids. Dope. Everything."
"Yeah, so that became my scene. I started paying rent when I was, like, five years old. Hah! Fuck were you doing at five? It's really easy to fake neediness when you're a kid kid, but I also had to worry about abduction or being escorted to the police. Once the deed was done, I had to high tail it out of there. Hey, but was it really faking if I, a little boy, was actually needy? No. I didn't wrong anybody my younger years. I didn't force people to fork over what they did. They were just generous."
"If you want to talk exploitation, let's fast forward to England."
"So eventually, I was pretty much running a fucking business out of my room. Well, our room; you know what a motel's like. My dad and I were kind of living like normal again. I mean, I was out there hustling before I'd learned how to ride a fucking bike, but at least we weren't worrying about food and shit like that. My dad had started to look into getting himself a lower ranking job in the medical field until he could get back on his feet and be a head honcho again. It wasn't until a couple years of bureaucracy and brushing up on his creds that he was able to land himself a job offer in the UK. He'd made a couple friends during his time, and they were just about getting ready to take off. Yeah, it was kind of spur of the moment sort of deal, but it was exciting. He came home and pitched me the idea. I was like... No shit? Let's do it."
"It felt really good leaving all the webs I'd spun there in America and starting fresh someplace else. No one knew who I was, so of course it was like Christmas for a con. Besides, I think we needed away from good ol' Fort Washington. Probably we would have moved back, but now here I am."
ET CETERA
► He is left handed but good at pretending to be a righty if he wants.
► His initials spell DAM(n). Equally funny, but his name is an anagram definition for the word "loan": (n.) A money lend.
► Voice claims: www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVrPVg… + youtu.be/wsRpykdFsHw?t=39s + www.youtube.com/watch?v=tU_DtP…
ROLEPLAY SAMPLE
Denny
Hot on the case, the academy's con-artist sat with his knees pressed to his chest and his nose buried deep into a paperback that read Murder and Mayhem: Death for Dummies. Who knew reading could be this titillating?! But it wasn't the statistics that this nonfiction work of art told, it was the theme behind it. Perhaps the Mastermind themselves had a little looksee into something that would drive them to cork a girl's chest with a whopping iron stake?
There were always the murder mysteries in the back, but those things required a little more chutzpa in the noggin. This was a fine start, he convinced himself. There had to be something motivating an asshole that would make everyone get up on Saturdays to attend a hearing.
His feet shuffled closer to his butt, there on one of the desks. Someone was approaching, but they didn't smell like any one of the suspects on his lists. Nnhf... Yeah, just another regular. Denny's eyes peeked out from over the edge of the fat, yellow tome.
"Have you a lead?" He asked of the stranger with no context to back up that demanding voice of his.
