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You're going to snap them right off.

This might be exactly what you need. Take the edge off the world, relax...

His voice, the tonality. Like a shadow creeping up the wall of a memory.

He's going to hurt you. He's going to hurt you for a long time.

Much louder than you were expecting.

Careful. Slower.

It'll be a relief to get out of this place.

Why would someone redact something they wrote... from themselves?

If this is the beginning... one must fear the end.

It's like she was suddenly thrust upon a stage, all her lines unrehearsed.

Your feedback on her own verses still spirals inside her head.

There's always the dangerous option. Express delivery.

Barely holding it together as she dramatises her words.

Her composure is immaculate, but it's not enough to hide the agony crashing through her.

Her composure is immaculate. If she felt any pain from this it goes completely unseen.

The shake in her hand intensifies. She looks like she could be sick.

She looks like she could be sick.

Resigned, she sinks into herself, doing her best to swallow her pride.

Hope all the stress and isolation and paranoia is worth it.

His convictions may as well be carved from granite.

Last instants before pressure release. The thing building up inside is about to rupture its container in three, two...

For a long moment, none of the students can tell what's happening. Then, one by one, they realise.

Don't let it beguile you.

But be warned: You may have to read the whole thing.

Whispering to each other in low, urgent tones. They're beginning to panic.

It sounds so pitifully small now -- 'your thing'.

A tool for a task, nothing more or less.

You could ask about his motivations -- casually, as he asked about yours.

You might still be able to play this off.

Which raises an intimidating question...

He already knows the truth. He's just waiting for you to confirm.

You should take your tiny hostage to a medical professional and get it assessed.

Coiled. Fingering the safety latch.

A stoic drunk. Tourniquetting the slur with sheer concentration.

Not perceptibly. But there was something at a base pheromonal level that pitted you against each other from day one.

Maybe you didn't want to see it.

A lurch in your stomach at the sight of the drop.

Nerves, stretched taut to breaking point.

The book stays closed. It has a nice cover, what more do you need?

191 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 4 of 4