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Somewhere behind. Focused on your back. Malice.

His hand hovers by her waist. He's about to make a move.

She's trying to fight a smile, her cheeks keep twitching upward.

The movement conveys a desire to do the same in your eye.

You see panic recede from her eyes and realise -- she's afraid of you.

Emotions manifest oddly through the serum. She's terrified.

His future just fell away from him. He's lost in time.

It's like he's not looking at you, but rather someone with your same name and face, standing in the exact same place.

'Nearly all of them'. Interesting.

The gesture is meant to drive home how limp these dicks are.

The television event of the year!

Expectant. He knows what you're about to say, of course, but you have to say it anyway.

Overheated gestures to match his rhetoric.

At the word 'Reunión', a number of necks stiffen. A man in a bucket hat casts a hateful look over his shoulder.

Behind the man's gaze, the world turns against you.

The slightest hesitation. Skirting around a secret.

He's genuinely perplexed.

Even before you ask the question, the outline of a name is forming, letter by letter.

Come straight to me. Never cross my path again. Both true at once.

He's rattled. And not used to the sound of rattling.

The end of that sentence sharpened to a point. Your friend asked for a single name.

Instinctively, he looks down, but tries to stop himself. It's almost like he's...

An uncharacteristic tension in his voice there.

No one is 'sensitive to moonlight'. He just thinks he looks cool.

Behind the mask, she rolls her eyes at her friend -- 'Can you believe her?'

He smiles shyly as if this is a good thing.

His brows meet, then he smiles knowingly. He's about to tell you a secret.

The verge of a smirk. She likes watching your fingers flail.

Like it heard the question. Like it's thinking about it.

She says this pleasantly, her head cocked to the side.

She smiles and ruffles her hair, trying to shake off the dream.

Horror in her eyes.

A crease grows between her eyebrows, she blinks slowly. She doesn't remember.

She beams, red eyes sparkling.

She wants the answer to be no.

Don't let her hear your surprise. Volley it back.

Veering wildly between the formalities of her role and her desire to speak plainly. She's been drinking.

A note of concern for the company you've been keeping.

A bubble just waiting to be burst.

But also attention. He won't brush you off so easily now.

But also attention. He won't brush you off so easily now.

He won't brush you aside so easily now.

The way he says it, he's not sure whether that's really true.

The way he says it, he's not sure whether he'd consider that a negative or not.

Incomprehension, mixed with a taste of horror.

Don't let the wolves' playacting at humanity fool you. They're still animals underneath.

303 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual