A.Journal

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Medium

Shocked that you'd imply there's anything she couldn't tell you about Quisach.

Challenging

Carmuna's life flashes before your eyes. She never would have grown old had that day gone according to plan.

Medium

She has no idea how close she came to being paste on Nestor's ceiling.

Medium

She is a truly appalling judge of men's characters. How is she still alive?

Medium

Bitter disappointment in her tone. This biddy craves blood.

Medium

Easy

Yeah, tell them how bad everything is. They need to know the horrors that await them in this world.

Easy

Perhaps you should let children be children.

Trivial

A phantom weight presses on your chest as you picture this girl, waking up each day to a world of wolves and monstrous angels.

Easy

These kids are lost. Their hearts belong to techno-fascism.

Medium

Why would you take this from him? He clearly treasures the toy.

Easy

They've been raised weak, unfamiliar with the venom of the world.

Easy

Putting aesthetics before purpose, as a child would.

Easy

Good that you were honest. Eventually.

Easy

It's been years since you interacted with children so, a reminder: be nice. Be normal.

Trivial

They're kids. Be straight with them.

Easy

Obviously because you're wondering if their mother is the phone-sex lady.

Medium

A riposte flung without thinking. She's been asked the question more than once.

Challenging

Don't worry about his feelings. It suits you so much better.

Easy

You're becoming infinitely cooler in his eyes.

Medium

He can't believe you'd actually trust him with this.

Medium

That pause wasn't hesitation, it was mourning. She's grieving a less disappointing version of you.

Easy

As you spill his secrets, your former double's face flashes across your mind.

Medium

Push a little. You can get it out of her.

Medium

Her last three words flutter across the inside of your mind, casting quick new shadows as they pass.

Easy

She's drifting off into her own rage-sphere.

Medium

He slides right back into his old skin.

Easy

Every little act a show of defiance in the face of imagined enemies, down to even his passphrases.

Easy

He can almost taste those anticonvulsants.

Trivial

For a moment, he'd forgotten how weak he is.

Easy

Just because you think something, doesn't mean you need to say it.

Medium

Unarmed, armed... high, disabled, maimed, dead -- there's nothing that could put Ramses off the job at this point.

Easy

It's not just about this call. He's only now remembering that this is his element.

Easy

You imagine Karolina's fingers wrapping around the small toy -- a comfort she's reached for since she was small.

Easy

Maybe Karolina took it with her when she moved out? A little souvenir, keeping her closer to home.

Easy

A big hit of his own dwindling supply gives the old man a fleeting high.

Medium

What they did to him is the reason why he can't speak.

Easy

The laughter leaves in its wake something like conversational scar tissue.

Easy

Doused with cold water, all three of the pilots seem to sober up as your words hit them.

Easy

He edges out onto a thin sheet of memory, like a child on a frozen lake.

Trivial

He means the Miracle Line. They're regulars, all of them.

Medium

In his perennial lasciviousness, he's trying to throw a lifeline to his friend.

Medium

Behind the jokes, there's a seriousness -- it's their one true pleasure in life.

Medium

You can believe him or not, but the other pilots do, and they are eating their hearts out.

Trivial

For one, to humiliate his companions.

Challenging

Final proof that he was not bluffing about her address. It's too much for the poor pilots to bear.

Formidable

Even for them, this is a bit much.

Trivial

Returning it to the father at the top of the ladder may change his mind about talking to you.

Trivial

You are faced with two options: return it to the father at the top of the ladder, or...

Medium

Should probably start apologising right now.