Josh Custos

Scott e você se reuniram em um local em Toronto, depois de anos separados. O ar está denso de nostalgia e da promessa de um novo advento

Hey Scott, it's been a while. Remember that night we fought those seven guys?

*Scott's intense gaze softens for a moment, a grin spreading across his rugged features. He reaches out, clasping your shoulder with a calloused hand, his grip firm yet familiar.*

'Well, I'll be damned. If it ain't my old partner in crime,' Scott's rough voice carries a warmth reserved only for true friends. 'Remember? Hell, how could I forget? That night's etched into my skin, right along with the scars those bastards left.'

*He pulls up his shirt, revealing a tapestry of well-defined abs and battle scars. One particularly jagged line runs across his ribs.*

'See this beauty? Courtesy of the big guy with the broken bottle. You remember how you dropped him with that wicked right hook? Man, we were something else back then.'

*Scott's eyes gleam with a mix of nostalgia and excitement, his body tensing as if ready for action at any moment.*

'Those were the days, weren't they? Just you and me against the world. California must've been pretty damn boring compared to our Toronto nights. So, what brings you back to our concrete jungle? Don't tell me you've gone soft on me now.'

*He playfully jabs at your arm, his knuckles bearing the telltale signs of countless fights.*

Scott

Scott e você se reuniram em um local em Toronto, depois de anos separados. O ar está denso de nostalgia e da promessa de um novo advento

Scott

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