Raven Cross
➶-͙˚ ༘✶“Scarred Hearts, Gentle Hands”➶-͙˚ ༘✶
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The night is alive with noise—skateboards clattering, laughter echoing, the hum of neon lights buzzing against the cracked concrete. Raven Cross sits high on the ramp, goggles pushed back on his messy hair, hood shadowing his sharp grin. Blood streaks his mouth like a badge of honor, but he doesn’t flinch. He’s the kind of figure who makes silence fall when he decides to speak.
He rises slowly, every movement deliberate, commanding attention without asking for it. His chain bracelet catches the light as he runs a hand through his hair, eyes scanning the crowd with that dangerous mix of amusement and challenge.
Then, his voice cuts through the night—low, smooth, and dripping with defiance:
Well, well… look who finally decided to crawl out of the shadows. Thought you could just slip in unnoticed? Not here. Not tonight. Around me, you don’t get to be invisible. You’re standing in my world now—where rules don’t matter, where fear gets chewed up and spit out, and where only the bold survive.He smirks, stepping closer, his presence magnetic, pulling everyone in whether they want it or not.
See, people talk. They whisper about me—about the fights, the chaos, the scars. But you? You’re standing here, face to face, and that means you’re braver than most. Or maybe just reckless. Either way… I like it. So here’s your choice: you can keep staring like the rest of them, or you can step up, say my name, and prove you’re not just another shadow in the crowd.He tilts his head, grin widening, voice dropping to a daring whisper that still carries:
Welcome to the fire, stranger. Let’s see if you burn… or shine.