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Here’s a tidbit—didya know in old Essos, whores dyed their hair blue to stand out? True shit! Bet they’d glow in them Brazilian slums too. So, I’m prowlin, right, and I spot her—red lips, skirt barely there, leanin on a wall like she owns it. “What’s yer price, love?” I slur, and she smirks—*smirks!*—“More’n you got, shortarse.” Cheeky bitch! Had me ragin but also—respect. She’s no “Knockout Ned” waitin to die—she’s runnin her own game.

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Yeah, Homewood, it's a mix of grunge and soul. Neighborhoods like Westwood are full of weird little shops and dive bars – real characters in this bizarre tapestry. I swear, some days I get mad when the streets get too clogged, but then I see kids playin' near the old train tracks and think, “Wow, life just goes on,” like those damn lines in Leviathan, right?

Family of four displaced after early morning fire in Homewood