A.Journal

Checks

Medium

Rows of cables, desks and shuttered windows above a very cold basement.

Formidable

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

Challenging

Final epoch of the Pleistocene age. The measured, even breath of the huntress is the only thing that could betray her presence as she stalks the dire tiger in tightening circles.

Medium

Barely concealed bliss.

Medium

He's about to blow.

Formidable

He might cry later.

Medium

The concern might be well placed -- he is a master spy and you are a mere sub-lead on his assignment.

Medium

Maybe he's got himself fooled.

Legendary

His upbringing, education, and other conditions outside of his control have made him who he is today... have patience.

Challenging

Millions-billions dead. And more.

Medium

Like the fax machine in Foto 24. Another misaligned paper tray.

Medium

OBSERVE THE CAPITALIST BOX AS IT RELIEVES ITSELF OUT OF FEAR. MOCK IT SO IT KNOWS HOW PATHETIC IT LOOKS.

Medium

The poor thing's been abandoned. Left to pickle in the bitter piss of passing drunks.

Easy

No one would notice, or care, around here if you were to help yourself to its monetary takings.

Medium

Karolina's chest rises and falls, her blue, paper-thin eyelids twitching.

Easy

Her first real sleep in months, maybe years. Your voices won't wake her.

Medium

His fingers go to her hair, reflexive. Blunt nails scratching gently against her scalp.

Challenging

Something inside him breaks.

Trivial

Strands of her long, dark hair falling through his fingers as he pulls his hand away from her.

Challenging

Turn around. Stop. Mercy.

Formidable

He's a little afraid of you now.

Medium

Beneath his self-deprecating exterior there is something genuine -- sensitive, loving, hopeful.

Medium

And beneath that is the part that desperately wants to hear the whole sordid tale.

Challenging

This still carries some weight with him.

Medium

No smug self-satisfaction here -- just pride.

Legendary

Show this skinny dickhead we mean business.

Easy

Catching the look in your eye, Septimus shifts his stance, weight on the back foot.

Medium

Punchable face. Begging for your fist.

Formidable

It's far from the first time he's been threatened like this.

Challenging

Mmm. Yummy gunny.

Medium

Spittle? In your barrel? Who knows where that mouth has been?

Challenging

A psychologist would probably call this a side effect of being the object of violent loathing from birth.

Medium

The fabric of his oversized shorts begins to sway.

Easy

He bounces a little on the balls of his feet, considering combat.

Medium

Not the first time he's taken a hit like this. Not even close.

Challenging

"I'm here to help."

Medium

He can't help her. He's tried.

Medium

An old-school, derogatory term for spies.

Medium

Most likely overheard during one of his father's notorious tirades.

Formidable

Legendary

Shit, he really has tried everything.

Legendary

The gäng can hold their own -- he's probably exaggerating to make you feel bad.

Formidable

This is not your fault. The risks were the risks. This is not your fault.

Formidable

Your fault. Un-fixable. Fucked.

Easy

Want her? Through.

Legendary

Fuck. She sounds wretched, this is mega-tragic.

Medium

Translation: They have no ideas and no money.

Medium

The fantasy of the eternal studio-hang is more vivid in his mind than any actual 'production' that might occur there.

Medium

They haven't written a word.

Challenging

Maybe it's all in her head. Maybe there really is new energy in the wires... either way, it's doing something, and it's wicked.