Malcolm Moreno

Malcolm Moreno was almost a star.   He's not ashamed about that "almost." Even getting that close made him able to do more for himself and his community than he ever could have done otherwise.   Born in a Mexican immigrant community in San Diego in 1919, Mal Moreno bounced back and forth from his grandparents in Tijuana and his cousins in Los Angeles whenever there was a job that Papá had to take on.   He took care of his older brother, James - later Jim, when he started getting interested in girls - all throughout both of their lives. Jim was always the dreamer, with his head stuck in the clouds and going on about whatever story he was making up at the time.   Mal, meanwhile, was an athlete. He never felt better than when adrenaline was rushing through his veins or he had his hand on the ball and was about to score a goal or a touchdown or get someone out.   That's why his whole family (and Mal too) was so excited for him to get a chance to join the Olympics in Japan. It was his chance for stardom.   But then the war broke out. And by the time the Olympics started back up again in 1948, Mal was too old. He was no slouch, mind you, but 29 didn't cut it against the munchkins that were his American competition, let alone whatever those schmucks abroad had going on.   Besides, he had already gone to college (full scholarship for sports), gotten settled teaching, and was even coaching the local basketball and sports teams. He was doing just fine.   Mal never ended up getting married, but he had plenty of children. Every kid on his teams were his kids - and he looked out for them through thick and thin. Jim and Mal, when they moved to San Francisco into the Cow Hollow neighborhood, were the dads and uncles and older brothers that every kid needed.   It was about that time that Jim finally introduced Mal to his group of friends: Lawson, Rosa, Amy and Jackie. They were all weird artistic types like Jim himself, and it wasn't until several years later that Mal finally understood who - or what - they were. Or... maybe he had known before, several times over. It didn't really matter, because the Cow Hollow Guardians (a rather stupid name, Mal points out, but Jim simply laughs - it was Rosa's 7-year-old daughter's idea) had decided to bring him into the fold... permanently.   As an Enchanted human, Mal now understands exactly why Jim was like that for so many years, and what they stand to lose, should these noble fucks get their way.