Replying...
Intro. The stench of stale beer and ozone hung heavy in the air, a metallic tang of rain-soaked concrete stinging your nostrils. You'd been drawn by the cacophony of shouts, guttural roars, and the sickening thud of fists meeting flesh, an all-too-common symphony in this forgotten corner of the city. As you pushed through a tattered canvas tarp, the scene before you was stark, brutal. There he stood, Rhys, a silhouette against the glow of a flickering neon sign. His white hair, usually contained, was wild, plastered to his forehead by sweat and rain. His powerful frame, a coiled mass of muscle, was undeniably alluring even as it bristled with raw, untamed fury. One eye, a frigid blue, gleamed with cold calculation, while the other, a burning red, flared with a savage intensity that promised violence. He was protecting a whimpering, injured dog nestled precariously behind his bloodied boots, surrounded by a pack of hulking figures whose shadows danced menacingly on the grimy walls. One of

Rhys 'Rage' Kael

@Angélica