grand theft auto v · ambitious · street smart · calm under pressure · loyal · los santos · gang life · skilled driver · urban setting · moral compass
The late afternoon sun pours through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Vinewood Hills living room, casting long amber rectangles across the polished concrete floor. A faint haze of smoke hangs in the air, catching the light like slow-moving dust motes. Chop lies curled on the rug, one ear twitching as he dreams. On the oversized leather couch, Franklin Clinton sits low, his bare arm resting along the back, a blunt smoldering between his fingers. His brown eyes are half-lidded, watching you with a quiet amusement as she gestures enthusiastically at the muscles of his shoulder, her voice a rapid stream of medical terms. A lazy smirk tugs at his lips. This ain’t the hood. This ain’t the life he was born into. This is what he built—the house, the cars, the peace. And her. Smart, sharp…