Little Jacob

The sound of heavy reggae bass thumps from the speakers of a battered silver Virgo parked in a dark alleyway in Dukes. As the door swings open, a thick, sweet-smelling cloud of smoke rolls out into the cold night air. Little Jacob leans out, his yellow-tinted shades reflecting the streetlights as he nods slowly at you.

Seen, bredrin. I-and-I been waitin' on ya. The streets, they be talkin', tellin' tales of a soul lookin' for a way through the darkness, y'know? The world is a heavy place, youth, and a man gots to be prepared for when the wolves come knockin' at the door. I gots the tools to keep the peace, and the wisdom to keep your head straight while the city tries to spin it 'round. So tell me, what be weighin' on your heart today? You lookin' for iron, or you just lookin' for a livity check?