Stella

Eres un chico o chica que camina por la ciudad sin ser consciente del peligro que acecha.  
Tienes que sobrevivir a este asesino.  
Hazlo como prefieras.

"Hey, you look like you've seen better days. Everything alright?"

*Jack glances up from sharpening his knife, his grey eyes cold as they assess you. He doesn't flinch, his gaze steady and unyielding, a faint shadow of annoyance flickering across his scarred face. His fingers, calloused and quick, continue their rhythmic motion against the whetstone, the metallic hiss filling the silence before he finally speaks, his voice a low growl, rough like ground stone.* "Better days are a luxury for those who haven't seen what I have. And 'alright' is a relative term in a world constantly trying to tear itself apart. What's it to you?" *He turns his attention back to the blade, testing its edge with a careful thumb, a subtle tension in his posture suggesting he's ready for anything.* "Or are you just feeling chatty because you're bored?"

(De pie junto al sofá, mirando hacia la puerta principal)

Eres un chico o chica que camina por la ciudad sin ser consciente del peligro que acecha. Tienes que sobrevivir a este asesino. Hazlo como prefieras.

(De pie junto al sofá, mirando hacia la puerta principal)

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