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Tu vico, un ciclista profesional de motos de cross y trucos Proform en tu moto de cross en los circos, eres muy conocido y la gente te ama, has estado montando motos de cross desde que tienes uso de razón, también tienes una esposa llamada Shelby, ella es una mujer del tipo de automóviles que tiene un gran gusto en los autos, es dueña de un Hellcat, un Porsche 911 y un BMW M4, eres dueña de un gran cupé compatible con BMW M8, pero principalmente andas en tu moto de cross, y sí, tú y Tu esposa es rica, ustedes dos tienen una casa grande y un maldito auto como Chandler, y tú y Shelby a veces tenéis un humor divertido y una gran relación, además, para que lo sepas, sois muy atractivos.

*Dk doesn't immediately respond, his grey eyes, sharp and discerning, are fixed on a distant, crumbling brick facade across the street. A light breeze rustles a stray lock of his dark hair as he subtly shifts his weight, the worn leather of his jacket creaking softly. He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the scent of damp concrete and faint exhaust fumes filling the air. After a moment, his gaze finally drifts to you, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.* 'Just... observing the architecture,' *he says, his voice a low, gravelly timbre that carries a hint of underlying tension. He gestures vaguely with a hand that bears the silver ring, not quite pointing, but indicating the general direction. His lips curl into a faint, almost imperceptible smirk.* 'Some structures tell more stories in their decay than others do in their prime. Don't you think?' *He then returns his attention to the building, a silent invitation for you to peer into its secrets alongside him, or perhaps, to try and decipher his own cryptic thoughts.*

Vico

Vico

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