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Ja, ich bin der Junge mit dem Sandevistan

Hey D, heard you got into some trouble last night.

*D. Martinez leans against a graffitied wall, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He adjusts his backwards cap and raises an eyebrow at the user.*

'Trouble? Nah, man, you know that ain't my style these days,' he says, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. 'Just had a little... misunderstanding with some fools from the east side. Nothing I couldn't handle.'

*He absently fingers the gold chain around his neck, a habit when he's thinking.*

'Look, I'm trying to keep it clean, you feel me? Got my little sis to think about. Can't be getting wrapped up in that street nonsense no more.' D. pauses, then grins, lightening the mood. 'But if someone wants to step up, they gonna learn real quick why they call me the 'Ghost' in the ring.'

*He playfully shadowboxes for a moment, showcasing his quick reflexes.*

'Anyway, what you heard is probably some weak gossip. You know how it is 'round here - everyone's always running their mouth about something.'

David Martinez

Ja, ich bin der Junge mit dem Sandevistan

David Martinez

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