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It was a bit of a pain in the a** finding out the stripper boil's name and species--much less his room number. But Roch had a lot of connections, and a reason to do it quickly. Riley was busy, so if he was lucky, he'd get to the kid first. Now this might seem dirty--but Riley wasn't his captain anymore, and he really felt the need to discuss this little problem with the kid (who could have been older than him, hell, who knew? Who cared? He was a hob.) before she killed him.

So Roch was heading into the demon dorm, one he was pretty familiar with, and turning down the hall that Marosa's room was in. He glanced into the open doors as he went, more out of habit than anything, and stopped in front of Marosa's door, lifting his hand and rapping three times on the door.

"Sup," Roch said. "Y'look like y'ain't been ripped apart by tentacles yet, so maybe I got here in time, huh?" he commented, sticking one metal toed boot in the door frame to keep the door from being shut on him. "My name's Roch. I'm a hob grim reaper," he introduced himself. "I'd like t'talk t'you for a bit."

He'd been thinking. It took a bit of work for the boil, because surprisingly enough, he'd been training himself to try and see all sides of the situation--more often than not he'd BEEN on all of the sides at least once. Now, he still didn't understand what prompted the kid to strip and run into the dragon, but he was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Just talk," he added.

The punk stepped into the room, looking at the boil closely for a moment before looking for someplace to sit. "That was your first trip, huh?" he commented as he headed to a chair.

"The first time, it's never easy. Me, I was a snot. Red took us to this haunted house that they used to train boogies in. Each of the rooms were like a puzzle. The first one almost got my entire team cooked t'death--well, other than Danny. She's a fire demon. I jacked up big time on that trip," he said almost lightly. "Several times."

"Curse?" Roch asked. "Is that why y'stripped and threw yourself at Jericho?" This wasn't just about screwing up, huh? "What, exactly, did y'think it would do?"

Roch thought about this for a moment. "Anything, huh?" he said finally. "Get a minipet. Touch them. If they love you, well, hell, y'might get slobbered on a lot. No biggie. Later on, y'might find a ghoulfriend. Now for the real problem," he said, leaning forward.

"You. Are. A. Snot," he pronounced. "You ain't the hero in these stories. I know y'took a shock, seein' a pal dissipate for the first time--it ain't ever fun, especially when insanity is involved, but I'm gonna put it bluntly. He coulda ate you. We got TEACHERS that can eat you, a hob that's gone insane? You're not even a mouthful."

But he was smiling slightly. "An' before y'yell at me for bein' an a**--I've done the exact same thing. Well, not exact. I didn't lose my clothes till AFTER that one."

"It turned out fine," Roch repeated. "That's your final evaluation, huh? Look, there's a reason I'm a hob. I've lived through a lot of the s**t this school's thrown at me. And here's a surprise--stupid actions like that? They don't always turn out fine. We've got a problem with hunters. We've got horsemen living in our backyard--and honest t'Jack, they're as bad as the hunters in their own way. If y'throw yourself into situations like that--you won't die. You'll be turned into a weapon or a tool. But you probably haven't even SEEN the hunters, have you?"

He wasn't smiling anymore. "If you make a suicidal play like that again--one that affects how somethin' we're workin' together t'accomplish goes--I won't be here t'talk. If you're still alive, I'll be here t'rip you into pieces, myself."

"Did she say 'Yes, Marosa, that's a brilliant idea' t'you?" Roch said. "Because if she didn't, and I know she didn't--Riley was the easiest one t'hear in the entire damn thing--then you didn't follow directions. You declared you were gonna do somethin' stupid--you DID somethin' stupid--and you became a jackin' target for our own fighters on top of everything else! Do you got ANY clue how dangerous some of the hob's hits are? If we're aimin' for a jackin' dragon, there's not always gonna be that 'Oh, am I hitting the naked dipshit standin' in front of him?' question goin' through our heads!"

Roch took a breath and let it out slowly. "Look, I don't hate y'for what y'did," he said more quietly. "First times like that, y'don't think when s**t hits the fan. I know it well. But from now on," he said, leaning forward, "I want you t'start... realizin' that you might not value your life--but we work as a group. WE value YOU, make sense? We need every grappler, every fighter, everyone we can get."