Fenton Maddock
Portrayed By Toby Hemingway
Gender Male
Date of Birth January 30, 1989
Age 20
Zodiac Sign Aquarius
Aliases Fen, Fenny
Place of Birth London, United Kingdom
Current Location New York City, NY, USA
Occupation Student/Skater
Known Relatives Aunt, Uncle, Mother (Estranged), Father (Estranged)
Significant Other Mr. Pibbs (not really)
Known Abilities Solidification
First Appearance Moral Centralia

He's practically a poster boy for a Vans shoe catalog. He dresses like a skater and very much acts the part. If it has wheels, he'll ride it, but he prefers rollerblades and skateboards to bikes and cars. More manueverability. More control. It just hurts faster when you go down. Even though he looks like he's got nerves of steel with the stunts he pulls, it's a thin line of confidence he has a grasp on. He'll live life on the edge but that's only because he keeps his mind moving forward. One second thought, one glance back and it's over. The saying is to 'look before you leap' and that part's easy. It's the looking after you leap that gets you.


He was born and raised in London, a scrawny kid who got shuffled off to live with an aunt and uncle because his mother had a mental breakdown of sorts and his father had become a devout follower of The Bottle. Even then, he didn't think much of it. Fenton had always been told that that's just how things were, that he should be thankful he even had a place to live. Sure he'd seen it, plenty of people living off the streets. He'd offer them his lunch now and then, whenever he came across someone on his way to school. It was nice and all, until the scarier ones started chasing him for it and more. Weird things began, even then.

He was one of those kids that seemed to be born with a target on them, and it was like all sights zoomed in on him the moment he set foot into primary school. All it took was one round of bullying; from then on Fenton learned to avoid trouble when he saw it. He was fast, he had to be if he wanted to avoid being shoved around or spit at. Kids were gross things sometimes, and while transition into secondary school filled out most for brains, height and personality, some habits were hard to die or just mutated a level. Fenton kept to himself, not trying to make anyone feel sorry for him- he just liked not being bothered by anyone. Not to say he couldn't get along with anyone, he made friends the same way most people did- he found a niche to squirm his way into, to belong.

Skateboarding was considered one of those delinquent sports. The lanky kids with the girly pants and the scraggly haircuts were all into it, leaving many a scar on cement and stone or the pavement and scratched paint off rails. Fenton fell in with these, finding a strange draw to the precarious thrill brought on by one balancing on a piece of wood with wheels. He had good balance, he caught on fast. He never got more than a few scrapes and bruises, and his aunt and uncle, although concerned at first for this potentially dangerous sport their nephew-son had undertaken, were pleased that Fenton was being more sociable and actually doing more than holing up in his room with a guitar. That was another thing likely to not simply be considered "just a phase" anymore. They'd held their breaths in hopes that the boy would never ask for a drumset, but Fenton stuck to guitars. He was quite good. At one point he and a few of the neighborhood boys attempted to form their own band, but they received complaints about the noise and so were forced into early retirement.

Manifestation of his unusual abilities truly surfaced when he was at the end of his years of pre-orientation in secondary school, but use of it had occurred earlier still although the instance had been brushed off as just a matter of pumped adrenaline. Growing up in a Christian household, his aunt-mom told him angels were always watching him. He'd read through the Bible twice so far, and he figured if things could happen then, what was wrong with expecting that the strange things that helped him now were not along the same lines? It was all a matter of faith. If you had the faith of a mustard seed, you could move mountains. He'd never tried it because he thought it would make a bit of a mess if he succeeded, but he had been able to walk on water. Well, run, actually- he was in a hurry and it had mostly been by accident since he hadn't realized until his pursuers plunged several feet below that the water he'd crossed had been more than just several inches deep. He could scale walls in two leaps as though there was a step in the middle. He'd had several close calls where it would have been a nasty wipeout with his skateboard had he not been able to right his balance with an aerial handplant. Where? How? They were all quick instances, such that if it had been only once, he wouldn't think twice about it. There was a time or two where he hesitated- he actually paused to consider what was happening while it was happening- and faltered because of it. Fenton was quick to learn. He decided not to question it, to keep moving forward. It was what he'd been doing all this time anyway. Why stop now?

The years of school that seemed to drag on him finally relinquished its hold, and he would have tore loose the rest of the way even if he wasn't sure where he'd be going next. His grades were decent- he'd had an odd taste for literature, but he also wanted to get out, get away, do something different. He took a break from school for a few months, backpacked around Europe to see the sights, get his cultural fill before plunging headfirst into not only college life, but college life Abroad. New York City, here he'd come.


He's quiet, he's the type that watches out of the corner of an eye with that subtle sense of paranoia that he'll probably never admit to. He's a loner, he's a punk, he's a rocker and he can dish out some mean tunes on a guitar. His favorite electric is pink. People laugh at that, but not when he's shreddin.' He's the thinking type, amazingly fond of silence no matter how loud he likes his music. For a guy that seems to like being on the move, he sure spends a lot of time watching things go by him. Sure he, likes to keep going forward, but he's not in any hurry. Looking back is like regretting, keeping your sights set on what's ahead of you, that's the important thing. That's what you reach for, that's what takes you places. Of course, it never hurts to know you have something behind you to fall back on. Books have always been his best companions, and although he hadn't been able to take as much as he'd like along from home to the new flat, nothing has stopped him from steadily rebuilding a collection. With his decision to take up English courses for his major, it won't be long before he has a decent amount. He's thinking of taking up a job at a library, either on campus or off. Books are books and the filtered quiet is generally the same. Aside from books, his newest companion since he moved stateside is an orange-striped tabby named Mr. Pibbs. One'd never think him a cat person by looking at him. Fen' takes care to keep at least a couple of lint-remover rollers around the flat, especially with all his dark clothing. He likes… black. He likes plaid, sometimes, but he likes checked more. Hey stays away from stripes- he hates feeling like he's limited to going only two ways. He's from England. London. He's kept his hair a reasonable cut and hasn't bleached it out- not that he needs to when it's already pale enough. He doesn't believe in piercings- the holes he came with is enough and the extra holes one can get only get worse when you crash and burn. Sometimes they make more holes. He's seen a few cases and it isn't pretty. He's got an accent but he's learned to hide it well, but it tends to slip out under moments of pressure or if he's got a lot to think about at one time. Now and then he'll throw a word out and get more than second glances. It's kind of amusing to him.

Concentration; that's the key. One can do anything when they put their mind to it. Some people call it faith- belief in the substance of things unseen, evidence of things hoped for. It's a good definition and one that he adheres to. He wonders if people know it's out of the Good Book. Call it psyching yourself out, it's all a matter of belief in the end. Get over that hurdle of the need to see and you can do anything. And that's what he does. Nothing extremely complicated. It's amazing what a mind on panic can fixate on with enough force to actually make something happen when something comes up to spark it. A boost up a wall, an invisible step in the air between buildings, a wall dropped in front of bad people that want the lunch money you don't have. Those are some little things. It's used more often than he's aware of when he's blading and boarding. Some skaters boast that they've had their legs broken in several different places, stitches on the back of their head and busted elbows and ribs. Twice. He takes pride in not having had much more than a sprained pinky oh and then there was that one time when he thought he cracked his skull but it was only a mild concussion. He doesn't share this much though. People look at you funny if you say you've never had broken anythings when you skate like a maniac.

Fenton's never been one for attention, which is kind of funny for someone who pulls the stunts he does. Sometimes he tends to be reclusive, hiding himself away from the eyes of society. Yes, he's surprisingly shy, but once he warms up to company, he figures it's not as much of a torment as one would think.


Solidification - There's a better word for it, probably loaded with all sorts of technical and scientific jargon that makes no sense to anyone but poindexters wearing black, horn-rimmed glasses and pocket protectors filled with exactly two black ball-point pens, a mechanical pencil and a sharpie. Fen' keeps it nice and simple because that's pretty much what he figures it boils down to in the end. It hasn't really occurred to him how extensive he can make things go— but then it's likely that he hasn't seen it as much more than just instances influenced by circumstance. When his mind's in a panic and the quickest way to get from point A to B while avoiding G is to go in a straight line, you don't really care about complications so long as you get there. You can wonder about the how's and why's after, if you cared to, but sometimes it's easier to just let it go. Just believe. He's run on air, crossed impossible gaps, found invisible footholds to clear walls twice his height. He's avoided many an injury during his extreme sporting activities just by a split-second grapple for leverage that wouldn't normally be there. There's also been a case or two where the ones having it out for him would run into a wall…when there wasn't any there to begin with.

So far, whenever Fenton's put his ability to use, it was in extreme situations and spur of the moment. It's not something he's ever tried to predetermine, perhaps because he hasn't realized it's something he can possibly control. It's amazing how solid a simple thought can be, even when you don't fully realize it. Just one more step here, just stop them there, if only… It's only when you begin to think about the technicalities of it that it can begin to waver- that you start seeing things through the eyes of the world. The illusion breaks and you end up on your back.

It's become a vague awareness in his mind whenever he manages to pull off, and the moment he lets his mind try rewinding, it all comes apart. He's learned to just run with it. Sometimes, quite literally. Thus far he's been able to successfully solidify air and water, usually spanning areas no larger than his hand or foot, split-second invisible walls being an exception to this. Once he starts being able to manipulate things to a longer and larger extent, one can bet he'll waste no time in trying out some new stunts with his wheels.


  • Step of Faith: It's that extra step taken where most people with common sense would stop. Sometimes that push beyond the limit is all that separates you from success and failure. With the right mindset Fen' can make that 1up reality by hardening the air to create invisible steps and pathways. He can do the same with water although when applied none of it lasts for any longer than a few seconds long enough to be made use of and then released. Difficulty: Average
  • WALL: Boom. There's nothing there and yet there is. An invisible wall. It probably isn't very wide and just tall enough to impede a person's progress in one direction. It's good enough for when Fen' puts it to use that being long enough to stun a person so he can be off on his merry way that is if they're unfortunate enough to run headlong into it. Since it's essentially hardened air it's not quite like colliding with a wall of rock although it is still quite solid maybe similar to a stiff mattress. Rolled as an attack target does not receive lasting damage if he does not roll high in Perception but will be hindered from doing anything immediately. Difficulty: Good


  • Enter Early Stuff Here. If So Willingly.
  • October 21, 2007 - Simultaneous events surrounded by Lee's singing. (Moral Centralia)
  • October 22, 2007 - Mikhail spots Fenton. Fenton runs. Cue chase music. (Run With It)
  • October 27, 2007 - Mikhail spots Fenton. Fenton runs. Chases stops short due to a 'fall.' (Hit the Floor)
  • November 3, 2007 - Mr. Pibbs interrupts Frank and Elena. Fenton also joins them because he needs Mr. Pibbs back. Hot cocoa for everyone. (Seasons In The Sun)
  • November 12, 2007 - While looking for the skate park (and thanks to Frank's directions), Fenton ends up at the Brawl HQ. Mikhail, Tyson, Ophelia, and Brian are also present. (Formal Beatings)
  • November 13, 2007 - Tyson and Fenton meet up again randomly the next day. A brief meeting, that is. (Wandering The Streets)
  • November 17, 2007 - Fenton and Eric meet for the first time. Michelle also appears. Cookies are had. (First Impressions)
  • November 26, 2007 - In Times Square, Fenton meets Portia. They play on their guitars for a brief jam session. It is awesome. (The Wandering Minstrels)
  • November 28, 2007 - Can't escape trouble in Chinatown, especially when it involves two other people he barely knows. (Mediocre Trouble In Little China)


  • "I'll find out when I get there."
  • "If I close my eyes and don't say anything, it'll be just like you're not there."


  • He works in a library.
  • Mr. Pibbs is his cat.
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