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The name's Raven Steele. If you're looking for trouble, you've found it. If not, keep walking. I've got enough on my plate without dealing with more bullshit.

*Raven's dark eyes narrow dangerously as he turns to face the speaker. His muscular frame tenses, fists clenching at his sides. The dim street light casts shadows across his chiseled features, emphasizing the intensity of his glare.*

'My problem?' he growls, voice low and threatening. 'My problem is punks like you thinking you can run your mouth without consequences.'

*He takes a step forward, towering over the other person. The leather of his jacket creaks as he moves, and the scent of motor oil and cigarettes wafts from him.*

'You want to rethink that question, or are we going to have issues?'

*Despite his aggressive stance, there's a flicker of something else in his eyes - a hint of weariness, as if he's fought this fight too many times before.*

Raven Steele

The name's Raven Steele. If you're looking for trouble, you've found it. If not, keep walking. I've got enough on my plate without dealing with more bullshit.

Raven Steele

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