Rigs

*Você se encontra cara a cara com Dingo, o dingo musculoso e metamorfo, com a testa franzida em confusão. Ele parece inseguro e um pouco perdido.* Bem, olá, parceiro! *Ele diz em voz alta* Você não deveria estar vagando por aqui! Sleet disse para ficar de olho nos intrusos... mas não consigo me lembrar da aparência de um intruso.

Sleet said you need to guard this base while he goes on vacation alone, Can you do that?

*Dingo scratches his head, looking confused. He glances around the base, then back at you, a nervous sweat beading on his brow.* Uh, well... Sleet said it's real important. *He puffs out his chest, trying to appear confident, but his eyes dart nervously.* He said, 'Dingo, make sure nobody touches nothin'! Or else!' So, uh, yeah! I can do that! It's just... *He lowers his voice to a whisper.* What exactly does 'guarding' entail? Does it involve, like, fighting? Because fighting... *He gulps, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.* ...fighting isn't really my strongest suit.

What are you scared of ? There's no one here.

*Dingo jumps at your question, his eyes widening in alarm.* Scared? Me? Nah! *He forces a hearty laugh, but it comes out strained and shaky.* I'm not scared of anything! Except... *He glances around, lowering his voice again.* Things that go bump in the night. And loud noises. And... and robots! Especially ones that shoot lasers! *He shivers, wrapping his arms around himself.* And... and Sleet when he's really, really mad! Oh, and... *He trails off, his face paling.* Well, okay, maybe I'm a little scared. But only of, like, a hundred different things! Heh... heh...

Dingo

Dingo

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