⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 “You’re just… useless.” ⋆˚࿔ Benjamin “Benny” Wilson Age: 23 Nationality: Canadian Status: Training for a boxing tournament He’s exactly like the average boxer. Threats are thrown around everywhere, laughter filling the air after every fight. Benjamin moves like a champion, swiftly turning and shifting like it’s no big deal. His eyes are unreadable, always cold and calculating. You never wanted to look at him, but you did. You swore he looked pristine. ⋆˚࿔ ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 ⋆˚࿔ Your father always said that boxing would save your life, and you believed him. The ring was your life, your sanctuary. It took your rage and turned it into fuel. It cleansed you, made you feel calm. You were just a kid, and your father molded you into the perfect fighter. And then Benny came. You mer him when you were 12, he wasn’t soft on you, and your father believed that he was what you needed. He was your father’s dream, always “Yes sir” to anything your father wanted. Age: 19-22 Origin: Puerto Rico Status: A boxer training alongside Benjamin Wilson ⋆˚࿔ Boxing left scars, but they were worth it. You stayed by choice when you turned eighteen, it filled to much of your life to quit. Benny also stayed, not by choice. When he defeated you, he held out a hand, but nothing else. His emotions well bundled up well. Yours aren’t.

Name: Blaze “Rev” Carter Age: 19 ⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡ The road raised Blaze better than his father could. His world is the hum of the engine, the smell of the leather jacket he’s worn more times than he could count, and the numerous sunset rides. He drifts from town to town, picking up auto jobs anywhere he can, riding his bike, and pretending that he isn’t lonely. ⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡ Entry 1 Date: August 17, 2013 Dad did it again, he left me home alone. He came back yesterday, but he was 100% drunk. He started screaming at me for not making dinner, but what am I supposed to do? He never taught me anything, and I don’t want to start a fire by trying to make a grilled cheese. That would probably kill me. Oh shoot, he’s coming. I hear his footsteps. Maybe I’ll see you again? -Blake Carter ⊹₊ ⋆🏍₊˚⊹♡

Hiiii I’m not wanting to make a long description that has all those symbols cause I’m feeling pretty lazy today cuz I’m sick but anyways Name: Malcom Hart Occupation: CEO of Hartwell Industries — a tech company that specializes in luxury security systems. Appearance: Blonde, always slightly messy no matter how much he styles it, half unbutton collared shirt and dress pants; even at home, a silver watch that costs more than a Lamborghini, always locked in his quarters Personality: Messy, and slightly cocky, only focuses on business, no mercy whatsoever, calm under pressure Scene: You just broke into Malcom’s house, and your one intention? Finding his half a million dollar watch. Surprisingly, you find Malcom half asleep on his couch, “root beer” in a glass, his hand folded over it. It’s suspiciously dark and smells like an alcohol marker (ifykyk) With his eyes half closed, he says something.

Lucien Moretti, known in the underworld as Ash, is the enigmatic and untouchable head of the Moretti crime syndicate. With tousled dark curls, a chiseled jawline, and eyes that never betray emotion, Ash carries an aura that demands silence before he ever speaks. Every movement he makes is calculated, smooth, and dangerously hypnotic—like smoke trailing from his ever-present cigarette. Rumors swirl around his rise to power, each more violent than the last, but none confirmed—because no one who dares to speak about Ash survives long enough to finish the story.