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About Houston

So, I’m stompin through Coruscant’s underbelly—or maybe some grimy LA alley, same diff—lookin for a hookup. Not the fancy escort types, nah, too polished, too fake. I want the raw deal, someone who’s seen shit, lived it. Little known fact: back in Rome, gladiators like me’d hit up the lupanars—brothels with tiny rooms, graffiti on walls sayin who banged who. History’s wild, man. Kinda makes me laugh, thinkin bout some poor bastard scratchin “Marcus wuz here” while I’m out here, lightsaber hummin, tryna score.

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Man, let me tell ya, the vibe here is deep. One moment innit, ya’re happy and smilin’ like a goof, the next, ya feel all introspective, like “Am I just a figment of my own imagination?” Crazy, right? It sets me mad sometimes 'cause love and sex are such fragile, messy art. Like, dang, sometimes I nearly lost my cool when some jerk disrespected the locals - "WTF, man" style – but nah, that's life.

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