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Product of her generation. She knew how to keep herself to herself.

She won't say what she really thinks of him. Not yet.

An uncomfortable reminder of his assumed familiarity with you.

She'd almost prefer if he just tried to assault her. She's used to that.

Without the long lens of the camera between you, she suddenly seems horribly normal.

No, a true nobody. Dragged unwillingly into another world.

It is, but only in the saddest, most mundane of ways.

Through the cracks in her indifference, horror starts to leak out.

Through the cracks in her indifference, horror starts to leak out.

He's not dead. Maybe asleep. Or wriggled elsewhere.

He's never been away from them for this long before.

This is useless. This man has only one thing on his mind.

Definitely not your style.

Not many would stoop so low as to use their daughter's suffering as a bargaining chip.

A bottle of expensive schnapps like the one he lost may change his mind...

Whatever makes him weep, it's not from the past year -- it runs much deeper.

He clearly doesn't believe that's possible, even as he says it.

Tempo had that effect on his surroundings. Often spoken about, rarely seen -- unless he had a use for you.

He really wants you to believe that.

Whatever he's hiding, it isn't pleasant... It destroyed something in him.

Even if he doesn't like it, his position gives him purpose, direction. Sometimes that's enough.

You don't need interests to make you interesting.

He means to insult you. But he has manners enough to get your permission first.

His soft heart has had to learn to nestle among wilder things.

Detecting low levels of 'It' here. Seems his return hasn't solved that particular problem at all.

There is no undercover. This is just Ramses, doing what he does.

He's got something for you. Ears on your enemies.

Silently, he asks you to trust him.

In the diffuse wilderness of Ramses' cognition, the line between irony and honesty is blurred to nonexistence -- and in this liminal space he is home.

Yana is her own person now. You don't need to betray her trust just because Ramses picked up on some speech patterns.

In Ramses' imagination, the L-pop physically leaves Kaleidoscope's body in perfumed and colourful vapours as he is repeatedly pummelled.

He wishes you hadn't asked him that.

The problem has been weighed carefully from the perspective of one who knows themselves disposable.

Another little reminder. The subtlest of knife-twists.

He's never going to let you forget that you alone came out unscathed the last time.

'Fear', 'lack', and even 'discomfort' are concepts utterly foreign to this animal.

Despite the verbal evasions his manner is genuine. He doesn't know anything about Tempo's demise.

A wall of words embellishes the hurt, but it's genuine.

The ego must perform a dissociative split before it can look back at itself and say 'I'.

You have struck the cruelest blow.

Pay close attention to what you find in here -- it clearly holds deep significance for your troubled friend.

A stab of pain in some unknown psychic organ.

Just the papers, no note. A sense of strange finality settles into you; he's gone.

For the gambler palming a final chip; for the veteran lacing up boots cracked at the heels; for the fool stepping into the current and demanding the river change course.

A pit of hopelessness opens in your stomach as you skim the rows of faces.

Pulled himself up by his bootstraps. Well done for him.

There's no craft here -- only despair.

This man should not be alone right now.

1,005 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 11 of 21