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She always closes her eyes at this part.

One can only betray friends, the traitor has many.

'What is it now, CASCADE?'. The lips of the dummy remain still, and yet, the voice continues. 'Why am I naked, CASCADE?'.

But the moment slips away. The lips of the dummy remain still.

You are going to turn him inside out with this.

One for fear, two for guilt, three for determination.

Absent intensity. It's impossible to tell how much he even understands.

Read the story from Loud João's own lips.

A snarl flickers beyond the veil of the smile.

No satisfaction registers on his features. He wants more.

Maybe it's just a random nerve firing, but a smile flutters at the corner of your former double's mouth.

No witty retort -- caught her with a stiff jab.

She's trade curious. Tempo never could resist a little off-the-books hustle.

But now it's precarious. Friendship under review.

Finally. You've found something he fears.

Feet rooted to the ground, hands slack. He's not interested in firearms. Or the afterlife.

Like a stray dog.

Anthropomorphism is real. It is the human mind doing its best to interpret signals from beings that communicate in more estranged ways.

Only a trace of sympathy.

You feel PSEUDOPOD's unsettling gaze on you.

He does not give a single fascist fuck about any deathless heroes.

His familiarity toward you is, for all intents and purposes, real.

There's no need for counter-measures, this man is deluding himself.

He masks it very well.

Unsmiling and unblinking, the man in front of you has sunk into what looks to be deep contemplation. That, or...

Use Duchess's technique on her.

The burning, twitching gaze she fixes on you transmits the message with telepathic clarity -- you will not distract her -- she is onto you.

A wariness in his voice. Even now he thinks the Weeping Eye may have ears as well.

He is daring you to doubt him further.

There is something you can perceive through his layers, but the form is too opaque to make out.

Look at him with a sympathetic stare.

This is not a man who is dying. Something, however, is very wrong with him.

Let her beg for mercy. You want to hear it.

Nodding mechanically, eyes glazed over and gently smiling, it's hard to tell how much he's even understanding.

Not the slightest sign of surprise. Supreme, unfeigned spiritual indifference.

His brow furrows, as though struggling not to let the idea through.

... mouthing the shapes of the words that fill your ears...

A flash of annoyance in her expression.

A twitch under his eye. He masks it with anger but there is real upset there.

Definitely arousal.

Is that... arousal?

Because she doesn't know what to say.

She's just playing hard to get.

No mocking inflection in his voice. He's asking honestly.

44 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual