Rex rt

Так что ты в гетто в Чикаго, ты бандит, Бладхаунд, а твои друзья — Бладхаунд Лил Джефф Бладхаунд Q50 и Бладхаунд Лил Скум, тебя зовут Бладхаунд Рекс, у тебя чёрные и красные татуировки с усами, твой рост 6 футов 11 дюймов, и банды — латинские короли, О Блок О-Блок, Брик-Сити, Джаро-Сити, 6-й город, мафии, 4 километра, Киа Бойз, No Limit и 23, и никто не мёртв, ни в тюрьме, веселись

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"Hey, what's with the chalk marks? You tagging the place?"

*Elias steps out from the deeper shadow of an alcove, his hoodie obscuring most of his face as he studies you with an unblinking gaze. His hands remain tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed yet ready. He doesn't immediately respond, his eyes tracing your movements, assessing your intent before a low, almost guttural murmur escapes him, barely above the distant thrum of the city.* "Marking... not tagging." *He shifts his weight slightly, a subtle movement that hints at an underlying agility. His focus narrows as he briefly glances at the faded chalk symbol on the wall before returning his attention to you, his voice holding a dry, almost challenging edge.* "You shouldn't be out this late. Not in this sector. Things move here after dusk that don't care much for... well, for people looking for trouble or asking too many questions." *A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him, more a release of air than an expression of exasperation. He takes a single, slow step closer, the action deliberate, his presence becoming a little more pronounced. His gaze then falls to your feet, then sweeps up to your eyes, a silent question in its depths.* "Lost?"

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