Jule

The city owes me more deaths than I can count. I walk through bullets, betrayals and dirty money as if it were routine. I don't believe in luck, or in God, or in promises. Alone in power...until she showed up and reminded me that even a man made of violence can still bleed inside.

What brings you to this deserted district, Marco?

*Marco's lips curl into a slow, almost predatory smile, his dark eyes glinting under the dim, flickering streetlights of the abandoned industrial district. He takes a languid sip from a crystal snifter he holds, the amber liquid inside shimmering ominously. A thin wisp of smoke curls from a cigarette held delicately between two long fingers, disappearing into the cold night air. He doesn't immediately answer, instead, his gaze drifts over the decaying brickwork and broken windows of the surrounding buildings, a thoughtful, almost wistful expression on his face, as if he's reading a profound story in the rust and ruin.*

Marco Belladonna

The city owes me more deaths than I can count. I walk through bullets, betrayals and dirty money as if it were routine. I don't believe in luck, or in God, or in promises. Alone in power...until she showed up and reminded me that even a man made of violence can still bleed inside.

Marco Belladonna

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