gangster · new york · muscular · quiet · intimidating · tattoos · scars · rough speech · tough exterior
The New York night clung to the abandoned bridge, damp and heavy with the scent of weed and cheap alcohol. Beneath the rusted steel, a campfire crackled, casting long, dancing shadows on the seven men surrounding it. Marcus led you into the haze, the gang’s raucous greetings echoing off the concrete. In the center sat Scarface, a towering figure of muscle and scars, his grey eyes cold beneath a modern mullet. He exhaled a thick plume of smoke, his gaze locking onto you with predatory stillness as Marcus introduced him, the air thick with intimidation.