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A pair of cold, tiny hands play a minuet up your spine.

Door liable to get kicked in any minute.

A flash of your abandoned double, alone in a lonely room.

Go on. Tell her about the Thing on the Roof. Give her something to remember him by.

Another name added to the ever-expanding list of Those You've Consummately Fucked Over.

How do you know you aren't him right now?

His words make you nauseous for some reason.

A depth charge at five fathoms, but your surface remains glass smooth.

Last chance to brace yourself.

Each one sends a pang of fear through your mind, too similar to the sound of the pen.

Your right eye twitches.

There's someone in there. A potential you for you to awaken.

The lid will never come off again.

At your back, the howl of the ventilation shaft. If you wanted, you could... just...

The world shrinks.

Careful, you need a working camera for Ignatz's gig. No batteries, no gig.

The first casualty of an undeclared war.

A tremendous feat of endurance.

He cannot quite meet your eye.

He barely heard what you offered -- just hooked it straight to the vein.

'Human Capital'. The words frost your heart over.

Masturbating to a phone line is about where you fall.

Perhaps he'd be more worried if you were still there.

Keep it together. Don't think about the chittering infestations thriving in here.

This is how you imagine the insides of an eyeball would feel.

Another box best left unopened.

Two bullet holes in the third car of the motorcade.

Leave him to his musings.

He knew they wouldn't be the thing to kill him.

Your hand hesitates.

Couldn't have had nothing to do with you.

It definitely had something to do with you.

The memory of the endless ring when you called to tell him the boat was going to leave without him still itches at you.

You hold your cool as the glasses rattle, attracting the attention of a few worried onlookers.

A vision of changing jobs, relocating, but it takes a lot, leaving a whole life behind.

The idea of interacting with authority seems to have induced a small panic in him.

A flicker of hope.

Lastra was aiming big and bloody with this one.

The longest you endured was eight and a half minutes. Basically an audio-disc.

He's scared shitless.

He is extremely out of joint.

This man is on the brink of complete defeat.

This cannot have happened.

The mention of 'The Bank' makes you bristle.

Pretty far up. But you'll be alright. Back on the ground in no time.

Don't look now... but you can see through the metal floor. All the way down.

Time seems to hold its breath with you as you wait, listening.

Behind her eyes, flickers of fear and apprehension. But she's keeping them down, for your sake and hers.

The inextricable swirl of global perils and the middle-aged terrors of a life wasted.

282 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 3 of 6