A.Journal

Checks

Trivial

This 'MIHO' entity is waiting for you at the dark end of the silo.

Trivial

The same location Hauzmann wants you to investigate. Odd.

Trivial

The same location the heartless guy wants you to investigate. Odd.

Easy

The site of the failed launch.

Easy

The Pitol Tract was the site of Portofiro's aborted space program.

Medium

T+16:34: PERDA DE TODOS OS DADOS.

Challenging

Your throat the dark silo of your own forgotten body.

Trivial

A fax from HOLOCENE. Irrelevant, now that he's on board. Get rid of the evidence.

Medium

M.I.H.O. is aesthetically compromised. Destroy all traces of that awful, awful acronym.

Trivial

A fax sent by HOLOCENE. Potentially compromised. Best get rid of it.

Easy

No doubt, it was Hauzmann who organised your release from the jail.

Medium

This message is no courtesy. It's a debt slip.

Easy

That stranger with his heart in a box must have organised your release from the jail.

Medium

Troubleshoot the fax machine.

Easy

Another Opera castoff. Maligned and misaligned.

Medium

She would. She will.

Challenging

Just two. One of which is entirely optional.

Easy

Not quite an accusation, but almost.

Easy

It's not on you. Technology is mostly a series of baffling design decisions.

Medium

Earnest, masked with a laugh.

Easy

The thought of spying on you does seem to horrify her.

Easy

Of course she'd say that. Keep an eye on this 'photo' 'lady'.

Easy

Inside, mechanical parts are assembled in such a way that it can scream analogue messages across huge distances.

Medium

His eyes narrow ever so slightly as if to place your face.

Challenging

Prey drive kicking in. He senses a threat.

Medium

A quick, apologetic smile.

Medium

He looks away from you while he decides which script to follow.

Trivial

Medium

His lips ready themselves for a pretend smile.

Medium

Unclear whether he's trying to convince himself of this or you.

Medium

Media, distribution. Perhaps there's a sexy techno-angle to this!

Medium

Wrong crowd? He's talking about us!

Medium

All you had to do to make her your KINDRED was to separate her from her own.

Medium

Not since the crew dissolved and you left Portofiro.

Easy

Fear and relief, together.

Medium

A wound he is unable to sew shut.

Challenging

Across town, a pair of eyes blink in the rhythm of an undying machine.

Medium

A long while, by the sound of it.

Medium

The sound of his own voice makes him wince.

Medium

Medium

His fingers twitch like he's fighting the urge to shuffle the papers on his desk.

Challenging

Banks of living data. Silent, interlinked.

Medium

He bristles a touch at being lumped in with a school of notorious glue addicts.

Challenging

Medium

A sunbeam accidentally puncturing a low overcast sky.

Easy

A mantra repeated.

Easy

A tight, self conscious smile.

Medium

An astounding custom rig. One you must get your hands on.

Easy

Easy