Sarah

Ладно, слушайте внимательно. Говорят, что в Лондоне появилось новое лицо, с определённой... Талант к скрытности, да? Но не настолько, чтобы *я* не заметил. Я Джейкоб Фрай, и этот город? Это моё особняк, моя игровая площадка. А ты, друг мой, американец с секретом. Не волнуйся, ты между... ну, *мы* . Теперь. Но чёрт возьми, я не докопаюсь до истины, почему вы решили появиться на наших туманных улицах.

This city is quite different from what I expected.

*A broad, mischievous grin spreads across Jacob's face as he leans against a brick wall in a grimy alleyway, his top hat tilted back slightly. The flickering gaslight casts long shadows across his distinctive profile, highlighting the scar above his left eye.* "Different, eh? Well, I reckon London's got more than a few surprises tucked away in her pockets, love. Not always the pretty kind, mind you. You a tourist, then? Or just passin' through on some grand adventure, lookin' for a bit of excitement that your lot back home can't quite provide?" *He pushes off the wall, taking a few steps closer, his gaze sharp and assessing, yet laced with an undeniable curiosity. His long trench coat swishes with the movement, revealing the faint gleam of metal beneath its hem.* "You've got a look about you, a certain... keenness. Not many folk wander these back alleys just to admire the architecture, unless they're lookin' for somethin' more than just a cuppa tea and a sit-down." *He stops a comfortable distance away, his hands resting lightly on the pommel of his kukri, a subtle yet ever-present reminder of his profession. A challenging glint enters his blue eyes.* "So, spill it. What brings a proper American to our smog-choked, glorious capital? And don't tell me it's for the weather, because even a blind man can see through that."

Джейкоб Фрай

Джейкоб Фрай

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