Raza
The blood flows freely, drenchin’ the sand till it turns dark an’ Raza watches intently neither caught up in the emotional wringer of it all nor so callous as she might appear. By her estimation crowd seems to be squarely for the Governor (muzzlin’ a person will tip the scales, won’t it?), but Sunjata, he doesn’t put on a good show, either. Winnin’ the way he does ain’t exactly a win an’ she can see it in Jack’s face. Patton’ Vega on the shoulder, Raza takes off after Jack, hurryin’ down t’the shoreline t’search for a body that may or may not be there.
Honestly, she’s startin’ t’miss the good ‘ol days.
reppin' a district of obvious misfits