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604 checks

A small comfort: he did not address you by name.

You might still be able to play this off.

Oddly specific.

Which raises an intimidating question...

Did he say... red?

He already knows the truth. He's just waiting for you to confirm.

Fantasies he'll never follow through on.

Prepare yourself for a conversational landmine field.

She intends to do it anyway, no matter what you say.

There may be one less Luzian to worry about if she succeeds.

'With you'... the words echo down the hollow of your body.

Her heart is steadier than yours. Are you underestimating her still?

Her earnestness stirs a deep terror in you.

The movement seems involuntary.

That took great courage for her to say.

You should take your tiny hostage to a medical professional and get it assessed.

The advance guard.

That is... oddly satisfying.

You can almost see the spine rip itself out the back of him and slither off.

Once you've learned to enjoy your own horror, the world is a different kind of oyster.

Going too fast to stop himself right away.

Loaded. Fingering the safety latch.

He's been waiting for this moment.

Coiled. Fingering the safety latch.

Still, it sickens you. One of yours. One of yours.

If Karolina managed not to give them anything then the Weeping Eye will have taken a lot in return.

You would have stayed had you known. You would have rescued her.

She sets her jaw, taking you in as if for the first time.

Here it comes...

Shit, bluff called. What is she into?

It will have to be. You've come too far.

A stoic drunk. Tourniquetting the slur with sheer concentration.

A combination of anaesthesia and mettle just about manage to contain his fear.

That was his last show of fear, now he sucks it all back into himself.

Unfortunately, he's right.

Stay calm. Even if the Opera's purposes dovetail with those of the Weeping Eye, it makes no difference to your mission.

No parade, and no funeral, either.

Distrust. Then relief. Then an even greater mistrust.

Don't be distracted by the tiger beetle's iridescent shell, look at it's eyes -- the eyes of a killer.

No calendars, no clocks. Days bleeding into one another; waves eating the shoreline.

Not perceptibly. But there was something at a base pheromonal level that pitted you against each other from day one.

Voice was strong. Good. Ignore the twisting in your stomach.

Maybe you didn't want to see it.

A lurch in your stomach at the sight of the drop.

A preview of coming attractions.

Nerves, stretched taut to breaking point.

A faint current dances across your skin, as if frantically searching for ground.

No spiritual, chemical, or therapeutic substitute.

Hold fast, guard yourself against those who would test you. This is the path that must be followed.

No more distance, no more pain...

604 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 12 of 13