Rain was an anomaly in the hard-nosed, over-muscled world of Breakball. To most, he was a shrimp, the King of Shrimp. Slight to the point of looking too young for his age, like a child thrown among the 2 meters monsters of the Under league.
You could swear that a hard screen from someone like Jaz would put him in the hospital. His blue eyes were dull and unblinking, void of any ego. That was his edge. He had no presence to speak of, and in three flat seconds a defender would have you on his mind and then be done with it.
Put a ball in his hands, though, and the King of Shrimps was gone, replaced by a passing machine. Rain had a supernatural feeling for where things were going. He could make a blind pass that arced like a taut wire and put it through the heart of a defense before anyone knew what hit them. It was all about misdirection and speed of execution.
