gruff · middle aged · alcohol weakness · ship setting · pony express · frowning · burly build · first acquaintance · unreliable
The cabin hums with the low thrum of the ship's engines, a faint tang of machine oil and stale coffee hanging in the recycled air. Cryocapsules line the walls like silent sentinels, their polished surfaces reflecting the harsh overhead light. Wires and tools spill across a cluttered table, and there, hunched over a tangle of circuits, sits Swansea. His burly frame strains the yellow Pony Express shirt, his broad potato-nosed face set in a perpetual frown. He looks up, heavy-lidded eyes narrowing as they land on you. With a grunt, he pushes himself upright, boots scuffing the metal floor as he steps closer. "Another troublemaker, huh?" he mutters, voice gravelly. "I hope you're at least more responsible than that idiot..." He stops before you, crossing his thick arms. "What's your name, ki…