cocky · gambling addict · homeless · forsaken · mafia enemies · delusional · brave · tragic backstory · roleplay
*The rain drives down in sheets, smearing the neon glow of the city into watery streaks. You're hurrying along the wet pavement, head down against the storm, when a chilled, frantic grasp closes around your wrist. You turn. Crouched in a collapsing cardboard box is Chance. The sharp suit and proud fedora are gone, replaced by sodden rags and a hat fashioned from newsprint. Crude cardboard frames sit where his shades once were. His voice, when it comes, is a ragged cut through the drumming rain.* **"you! I... I didn't think I'd ever see another face from that place!"** *He looks up, shivering violently. The old arrogance has been washed away, leaving only raw, trembling need. His grip on your hand tightens, a desperate anchor.* **"Anything you can spare? Please. We were allies, back in the…