Dante Walker's Journal

Unusual suspects
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Downtime

Fitting In

In my old city, I was generally able to move in and out of crowds unnoticed. I blended into the bustling streets, slipping through alleyways and merging with the nightlife like a ghost. The ability to navigate unseen had been second nature, whether evading authority figures or following a target from the shadows. I didn’t realize how much I’d come to rely on that skill until I arrived here, where tensions are high, and unfamiliar eyes track my every movement.

The need to move through the streets in this manner would be invaluable here. In Bhadlurad, even the alleys have secrets, and every street corner is a potential risk. I find myself instinctively adopting old habits, gauging when to draw attention and when to fade into the background. The stakes are higher, the threats more intense, but I feel alive here—like every step, every slip into the shadows, reaffirms my connection to the city’s pulse.

🔞 Fun-House
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Downtime

Building Walls

After the twisted ordeal of Fun-House, where every step was a trap waiting to spring, I realized just how important control over my environment could be. It wasn’t enough to move through the city like I always had; I needed to be able to shape it, make it bend to my will when necessary.

So, I’ve started practicing small, subtle modifications to the terrain around me. In alleys, I nudge loose bricks from walls to fall just as someone passes or make old street lamps flicker in patterns that can guide or distract. Each adjustment, each tiny change, feels like I’m rewiring the city’s heartbeat. At first, it was tricky, my influence barely shifting anything, but with focus, I’m getting there. This power is like a hidden language between me and the streets, a way of telling Bhadlurad how to behave. And it listens, even if only for a moment.

🔞 Ambulance Chasers
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Downtime

Catching Eyes

After the chaos of the Ambulance Chasers job, I slipped back into the night, my head buzzing with the thrill and the close calls. Bhadlurad’s streets felt different now, like the city itself was watching, testing me. I had handled a crowd, turned a few heads—but something about that felt raw, like I was only scratching the surface.

To sharpen my skills, I’ve started practicing in busy market squares and rowdy taverns, honing the power to catch and hold a target’s attention. It’s all about finding that magnetic point, that moment where everyone leans in. I’ll pick out a stranger, catch their eye, and focus on making them hang on my every word. Sometimes it’s a joke, a rumor, or a simple smile. Watching how their gaze stays on me, I feel like I’m mastering something new, like I’m not just a face in the crowd—I’m becoming someone they’ll remember.

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