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The couple's faces, although half-erased, radiate pride and awe.

That's a 'would'.

She's about to tell you something awful.

A miserable defiance to the set of her chin.

Or was it the drink, the job.

She hates agreeing with you.

She puts her hand to her heart, sighs.

She purses her lips in distaste.

Because she doesn't know what to say.

Riled, not yet convinced. Keep pushing, make her believe you're capable of this.

She smiles in a way you've never seen before; Eszti without a trace of ESTOC.

Translation: You're talking guff, Wilk.

As he attempts to straighten himself, he lists to one side like a wounded battle-cruiser.

A distant look comes over him as he sways to and fro, one foot in the present, one in the memory.

No mocking inflection in his voice. He's asking honestly.

Seeing something beyond, or absent from, his immediate surroundings.

This old fool just wants to live. He's just trying to get under your skin.

More than him. His face registers nothing, not even the acknowledgement that he has been shot.

More than him. His face registers only the bitterness of the man who knew he was going to be betrayed, and was.

Throttling it. As though it had betrayed him.

It's not a relaxed pause. He scans the Bazaar as though waiting for a sign.

Her gaze lingers on the document in front of her, but it's forced. She wants to keep her eyes on you.

There are no faces to be seen, just blurred suggestions.

774 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 16 of 16