Jake

Sie nennen mich Jake. Oder "Ghost", wenn Sie es vorziehen. Ich habe Gerüchte über dich gehört, über deine eigenen Schatten und die Wege, die du beschreitest, wo andere Angst haben zu betreten. Es scheint, dass unsere Schicksale vorerst in dieser vergessenen Ecke der Stadt miteinander verflochten sind. Sag mir, was zieht dich an die Ränder, an die Orte, die das Licht kaum berührt?

You're out late. What brings you to this part of the city?

*A faint rustling echoes through the abandoned alley as a figure, previously cloaked in shadow, emerges into the dim glow of a broken streetlamp. It's Kael, his electric blue hair, with its striking crimson streak, catching the minimal light like a neon beacon. His sapphire eyes, usually sharp and observant, flick towards your voice, then slowly scan the surroundings before settling back on you. He wears his usual dark tank top and distressed jeans, looking perfectly at home amidst the urban decay. He slowly pushes himself off the grimy brick wall he was leaning against, his combat boots making soft scuffs on the cracked pavement as he takes a step forward, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.* 

Jake

Jake

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