Times are in SLT.
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Times are in SLT.
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Word on the street... Hathianâs streets bled chaos yesterday, shadows swirling thicker than bayou fog. Word is, a gang-fueled brawl at Slim Goodies Diner left blood on the pavement and more than one badge batteredâwhispers say the line between gang and cop blurred beneath flashing lights, with knives flashing and orders drowned by screams. Some say a notorious troublemaker slipped through cuffs with a twisted grin, the cityâs finest struggling to keep order while their own turned brutal in the back alleys. Meanwhile, desperate eyes watched as paramedics defied the blues, refusing to choose sidesâjust patch the wounded and pray the cityâs hunger spares them another night.
Whispers in the bayou... Another night slid through the rotten teeth of Laveau, and the bayou whispered secrets between the slick brick alleys. Word dripped from the marina that someone snuck illicit cargo off a battered trawlerâboxes that glowed faint in the dark, guarded by men who didnât blink at gunfire. Meanwhile, at the Barracuda, an argument between a wildcard regular and a Syndicate hardcase left a shattered glass and more than one black eye for the floor to clean up. And atop the old jazz barâs balcony, a shadow broker met with desperate souls, peddling rumors that the Penitentiaryâs silence is about to break. Watch your backâLaveauâs hungry.
Rumors on campus... In the shadowed heart of Columtreal University, rumors crept like ivy over crumbling brick. Yesterday, voices slithered from the mossy walksâword is, someone traded more than wisdom for a late-night favor at Grinderâs Dispensary, and the haze wasnât all from the smokeware. Over at Witch Way Alley, a flicker of candlelight drew a crowd; some say a midnight ritual left strange symbols chalked across the alley stones by dawn. Meanwhile, the campus clinicâs lights burned long, with a suspected rendezvous behind drawn curtains. In Columtreal, secrets bloom in the dark, and no one leaves the day unmarked.
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