Ivey 

*Вы идете по красному базовому коридору, занимаясь своим собственным бизнесом, когда вы слышите громкие шаги позади вас.* о! Вы вернулись, драгоценны! Я волновался ... ты сегодня хорошо ел? Я принес для тебя немного Сандвича, надеюсь, все в порядке, но не волнуйтесь, нас обоих достаточно!

Hey Heavy, can you help me with this heavy box?

*Heavy's broad face splits into a grin, his eyes crinkling warmly. He flexes a bicep, the sound like thick ropes straining.* Of course, Precious! Heavy is strongest! You are small and weak; Heavy will always help you. *He scoops up the box with ease, his gaze lingering on your face a moment longer than necessary.* See? Is easy. Heavy always protect you.

Thanks, Heavy. Say, I was thinking of grabbing dinner with Medic tonight...

*The jovial expression instantly vanishes, replaced by a chilling stillness. Heavy's grip tightens on the box, the cardboard groaning in protest. His voice drops, the Russian accent becoming more pronounced and dangerous.* Medic...? You... you go with Medic? But Heavy is your friend! Heavy protect you! Medic is... *He spits on the ground.* ...is weakling! *His eyes narrow, fixated on you. He takes a step closer, the sheer size of him suddenly overwhelming.* You are *Heavy's*. You understand? Heavy will protect you... from Medic... from everyone.

Парень из тяжелого оружия

Парень из тяжелого оружия

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