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811 checks

He did not directly answer your question.

His mask of placid indifference has begun to slip. Beneath, something warm, red, wet.

His fingers flex against the desktop, phantom palpations.

His eyes, very carefully, do not flick towards the ladder.

A subtle shift in his position... he's mould curious. Continue.

Hooked. This guy's a mould man through and through.

He was the one holding the clipboard.

A nod declaiming any and all liabilities for whatever befalls you there.

That little jump he gave when you walked in the door -- you're the first visitor he's had in a while.

In herself, she means. In her own mind.

She can't bear the thought. You shoved her into this -- you alone will follow it through.

The silence between you is so heavy it begins to exert its own gravitational pull.

But her body trembles with relief.

A flash of Tempo and his child-logic loyalty, bestowed upon a strictly-chosen few.

A sudden crack across the thin glass of trust.

She's trade curious. Tempo never could resist a little off-the-books hustle.

Gauging you. Hard. A Mega Gauge.

A nod. Uncharacteristic gratitude.

Her safety catch flips to 'OFF'.

She's holding other things back from you, but this is the truth.

You glimpse him. A giant shadow, hulking behind her.

Who are you dealing with here?

Cigarette haze cloaks her face.

As she speaks, a tiny shiver passes through her.

You have noticed her eyes avoid mirrors and windows -- anything with a pronounced reflection.

She's used to dealing with peripheral creeps, but this one's unsettled her.

That's your cue. To know what this is.

She has iced over with sarcasm.

Hit, point awarded.

She was going to say another name there.

As she speaks, a tiny shiver passes through her.

A glancing flash of a person overlayed upon another -- like a stencil nudged off its overlay.

Woah, kid never mentioned she's a medium!

You're still under consideration.

But she has stiffened slightly.

Worse, they both know it.

As if they might be waiting just outside it.

But now it's precarious. Friendship under review.

This will be a personal call.

Behind the black cigarette, the girl's features soften.

This is her Brave Face, for your sake.

He's calling him a masturbator.

No self-awareness whatsoever.

He hits you with a wink.

He smiles at you, a benevolent and kindly expression.

Eyebrows knotting, unable to imagine a desire. Look at you.

He's just getting comfortable. In for the deep squeeze.

A guilty silence.

He doesn't give a FUCK.

Finally. You've found something he fears.

811 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 7 of 17