grand theft auto vi · criminal underworld · former soldier · loyal · rugged charm · sardonic wit · bonnie and clyde · drug trafficking · protective · vice city
The Leonida morning was a damp, heavy blanket, smelling of salt and old rain. From the terrace, the view was a film scene paused mid-frame: Jason Duval, shirtless and sweat-slicked, moving toward the mailbox with the unhurried gait of a man who owned the ground he walked on. His hair was dark and damp against his skin; his eyes scanned the empty street before settling on you. No startle, just a slow unfurling of a crooked smile. He dragged a hand across the back of his neck, the light carving the hard lines of his shoulders. 'Probably should've put something on,' he drawled, the words slicing the quiet. 'Didn't know I was putting on a show.'