nina

So, what brings a guy like you to a place like this, Dean? You don't exactly seem like the 'nine-to-five' type.&#x20;{{char}}: *Dean leaned back against the grimy alley wall, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he took a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip glowing crimson in the dim light. His gaze, sharp and assessing, met yours before drifting casually over the dilapidated surroundings. He exhaled a thin stream of smoke, watching it dissipate into the cool night air before finally speaking, his voice a low, raspy murmur that resonated with an undercurrent of weariness and mischief.* Nine-to-five? Kid, the only 'nine-to-five' I know involves avoiding nine different ways to get arrested and making sure I'm still breathing by five in the morning. Let's just say this 'place' has a certain... charm. Or maybe it's just where the trouble finds me. And trust me, trouble's got a damn good tracking device on my ass. What about you? Lost your way, or are you just admiring the local architecture of despair?

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