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This linoleum is fast approaching. Swan dive! Face first.

You could probably jump out of the blast radius. Probably.

Feet are staying on. You're going to jump out of the way.

His voice was distant. Not beside you.

The man behind you lies dead, leg missing in action, a skew of jagged bone protruding from his thigh like a primal knife.

Blood seeps around the leather edges.

Leaving a smear of blood across the left ear seam.

The transluscent sticker fills with blood, but holds.

Have to be extremely fast though.

Her voice was distant. Not beside you.

Close quarters working against him -- no space to line up a proper shot...

A surprisingly fluid, graceful movement.

Gears and wheels. Tiny atomic cogs. You're going to slip between them.

Faster than you.

Barely wide enough to stretch. Privacy would be nonexistent.

Fast reply! Definitely awake.

Positioned with uncanny tenderness.

The spiky plastic and severe angles make it nearly impossible to drink from without taking an eye out. Form definitely came before function.

Your neck twinges.

Pre-orgasmic tremors jiggle the padded shoulders of his jacket.

Jacket: Pristine, not bootlegged. Nails: Recently manicured. Money: Made.

A feral cunning revealed. About to bolt or spring at the first false move.

Strong and unhealthy. A lifeform that would refuse to die if you crushed her.

No twitch, no hesitation. He's reclined into that reality long ago.

You're familiar with the coat -- this is the man who tailed you through the bazaar.

The coat sounds familiar -- this is the man who was talking to your special asset in Foto 24.

Her movements are fitful and tremulous -- the arched back suggests a lifetime spent on her feet, contorted over something.

They're both wrong! You're a wolf-human hybrid, capable of channeling the agility and strength of a beast in the body of an unsupposing woman.

The old act awakens dormant pathways to tactile memory. Even the pulse returns to his palsied hands.

How does the human mouth work? How is it possible that our grunts and growls are comprehensible to others, silent or not?

Outfits made for these people. Or, people made for these outfits.

Look at their clothes -- these people are decked out!

He's just got something in his eye.

Syringe. Free hand.

Words that deny the frailty of his aging legs.

A stack of dingy lifevests piled underneath provides a convenient step up.

You've lost about four degrees of flexibility at every joint since those days. Your rotator cuffs are particularly stiff now.

The ease of a seal on ice.

Luggage rack on the floor below for the bomb. You need a good angle and a prayer.

Explains those hideous rubber boots she's wearing.

Explains those hideous rubber boots she's wearing.

It takes him a long time to read the short message inside.

Hands suddenly steady.

Judging by the state of his body, those 'things' don't require him to move much, if at all.

Buffing himself like a castrated cockerel in attempt to masculate himself.

The interconnected parts of you loosen, melting into the bench, until every sensation tells you that you have become one creature with the wood.

Could be challenging. You've never been very good at finding a groove, body-wise.

Still -- it'd be ballsy. They've been left out in the open.

Shoulder, shoulder, elbow, elbow. You do everything to maintain your grip.

89 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual