A.Journal

Checks

103 checks

Easy

Syringe contents: Mysterious.

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You have a screwdriver... Could always reset your hearing feature.

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Scared of a little blast radius, a light dusting of shrapnel? Coward.

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Ideally, anyway. Unless it's busted. But if not, it's going to be cinematic.

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Sparks of electricity bleed from the tram's exposed arteries. She's dying.

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Psychic hijacking! Infinity sync rate, open cockpit!

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Karolina's techno-curse.

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Of course there are. Show the machines and their OSTs some respect.

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Consumer earpiece quality. Suboptimal, though it'll still work. Probably. Might goo you up a bit.

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If it's foreign and lights up and/or vibrates, it might work.

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Connecting your mind's eye to hers.

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No! NO!! Bombs are bomb!

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Engaging with the flesh is pointless. This problem demands a more elegant techno solution.

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It may be time to reconsider the wiretapping solution.

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You need a tubular lockpick for this. Something like...

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Resin cabochon and palladium finish. Worth several hundred sols.

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You sure about this? You already made your own gun.

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You sure about this? You could just make your dream piece instead.

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Red... black... terror... she sips upon her majesty, TYRANT WOLF.

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Not even the faintest tick from within -- the ancient payload is keeping your secrets close.

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Look at those lights! Evenly diffused? Impeccable alternating pattern? That thing's not a bootleg.

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Ridiculous. These wobbling, open-chassis abominations can barely function on solid ground.

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Whoa-whoa-whoa! Check out those LEDs along the blade. Note the reinforced hilt. This isn't some cheap knockoff, it's a genuine import.

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Let's be logical. Whoever needs it more -- you, obviously -- should have it.

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That watch is five minutes slow. Her tech has failed her.

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LED lights are distributed evenly along the blade. Durable PVC hilt with textured grip. Impressive armament!

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Two years ago, a decision tree split. You: Retrieved. HOLOCENE: Lost. There are hidden variables.

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Unnamable homemade concoctions surround the motor cortex and zero in for the kill.

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Fuck the children, they won't miss what they've never had. You need the wolf merch more than they do.

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Sixty-Six Wolves! Fuck the children, they won't miss what they've never had.

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Now that you have both parts you could try repairing it.

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You could try getting the other half and repairing it.

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When you type in a sequence of characters it recognises as a command, the machine will react.

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RADIAN's fingers danced, each input a new incantation. The ember of his blunt pulsing with every keystroke. A sorcerer within his haze.

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Nothing you do can interrupt the mechanised processes going on unseen.

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This may be exactly what you need to crack the code of that door in the basement.

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Licorice, maybe?

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Okay, worst-case scenario you just trade comatose guy for monkey loot and fuck off. Must be some sick gadgets in that pile.

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As designed, allowing for the simulation of choking incidents during medical training.

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Proto-Girlfriend.

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It's not on you. Technology is mostly a series of baffling design decisions.

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Inside, mechanical parts are assembled in such a way that it can scream analogue messages across huge distances.

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Probably not what it's actually called.

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PSEUDOPOD has unlocked one of life's secret endings.

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Not quite accurate. It actually just has a few competing axes. Mostly Tempo, yes, some of the original girl... but also a little of the popstar in there too.

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You're wearing epidermal electrodes, contact points for a remote electroshock device. Sick.

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A sacrifice. For the machine-god.

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The device hums as though also in pain.

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This isn't working. Try using that console.

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This isn't working. You need to work out what the machinery is doing.