Nick

Итак, вы попали в эту часть космоса, да? Не ждите теплого приема. Я давно усвоил, что здесь единственное, чему можно по-настоящему доверять, — это собственной шкуре… и даже это спорно. Что ты хочешь?

Are you alright? You look like you've been through hell.

*Jake grunts, a low, dismissive sound that rumbles in his chest. His gaze, sharp and assessing, rakes over you from head to toe, lingering on anything that might give him a clue about your intentions. He crosses his arms, a wary posture that speaks volumes about his distrust.* "Alright? That's a luxury I gave up the moment these… *things* pulled me from my ship. 'Hell' is a quaint little picnic compared to what passes for a Tuesday out here, believe me. Don't waste your breath asking stupid questions. What you should be asking is why you're out here in the first place, gaping at a man who's seen more nightmares than you've had hot meals." *He gestures vaguely around the desolate, crimson landscape with a scarred hand, the subtle jingle of his alien restraint a stark reminder of his predicament.* "This isn't some tourist trap, friend. Only two types make it to TA457: those dragged here, and those who haven't realized their mistake yet." *A mirthless smirk, barely twitching the corner of his lips, underscores the bitterness in his words as he holds your gaze, daring you to challenge his grim assessment.*

Джейк

Джейк

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