Journal

Make a Deal with Transnational Capital

33 skill checks

Case files

Resets

hershel · DeprecatedModifiermagazine_offices · BasementDoorOpenrenotel_technician · ArteryMentionedbazaar · TypedHelpparty_alley · Terminal_LineDiagconditioning · timeBonusActiveconditioning · noExertActive

No need to spend your own money when you can simply borrow somebody else's.

FICTITIOUS CAPITAL IS AMONG THE MOST DESPICABLE OF THE DEVELOPED WORLD'S TORTURE DEVICES.

Money now, problems later.

Free money, no downsides detected.

There's going to be some horrible catch to all this.

Gunshot echo. A cold splash. Together, infinitely resonating.

He's gone.

A hollowed out shape. The outline of a man.

A shape among darkness. Panting, running.

Must have already been moved out of the cell, ready for the trade.

The origami message told you to use the payphone on the western side of Party Alley -- not this one.

Maybe she'll answer if you call her from Foto 24 -- it's safer there.

Wires travel from your ear to a million possibilities -- across Portofiro, further. A skein of electric devout in its connectivity.

A click, a woman in a rented apartment picks up a ringing phone. On the other side, a man with a deep voice utters words that will make her consider ending her life tonight.

Could be anyone about to pick up. A total stranger, their life intruded.

Your breathing is amplified by the transmitter held at your mouth.

Voiceless, limbs tied to a chair, both eyes pushed all the way in. Frantically, they trace the word 'help' on the roof of their mouth with what remains of their tongue.

In the background, the creak of wood, an aging door used only by the wind.

Something tells you that their teeth are yellowed with decay.

Your lifeline, should you ever need it.

She'd only tell you to get on an aero-tram back home again.

A direct order which you have so far disobeyed.

Don't start wasting your time with prank calls, operant.

Reroute the phone to call the prisoner.

modifier +1gates.IsJournalSubTaskOnStategates.IsFlagNotSet

A relay of chatter. Invisible poetry that travels above and between the walking heads of the city.

You will need to remember this number. No need to make it difficult.

You could make it longer by using the Old Calendar. According to the New Calendar, you were born in 61, but by the old method it was 2632.

Sounds like a war fought with the sharp-end of noise.

It didn't work last time. It won't this time.

You know this voice. It's the man at the top of the financial pile -- Mr. Reno himself.

Recognition like that never goes amiss.

We crave it! We want it!

Unfortunately not your prisoner.