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789 checks

Her fingers are spangled with violet glitter.

The best cigarette you've had in years.

She looks at you like this is the most salient point in the world.

The shadow of a passing aero-tram flashes across the girl's face like a zoetrope as she glances up.

The soft piano music rises again, nearby yet very far beyond you.

Her eyes flash with new tones, almost finding a unified colour.

The piano from the next room still plays, the melody repeating, softly insistent. You are dimly aware that the melody has changed.

The piano from a room beyond this one still plays, the melody repeating, softly insistent.

Her eyes are two different colours: amber and ash.

Carried from a nearby apartment, a piano melody floats through the room as if on small wings.

His eyes cross.

Behind his glasses, his eyes glisten.

You feel goosebumps stand on your shins.

Darkness in his eyes. Inviting.

Not a single twitch of recognition.

Is that a frown? He's puzzling it out. Give him a moment.

His cleats go CLICK CLACK on the hard ground.

His eyes lose focus and his lips move as he concentrates on deciphering this new information.

Behind his glasses, his eyes glisten.

He smiles with his eyes alone. You recognise yourself in the expression.

Mothball smell. Many seasons old.

Ten thousand needles across your skin.

You smell smoke and burning.

You hear the metal rattling in its case -- you feel tiny sparks leaping over your skin -- almost familiar now.

Sparks dance across the conductors on your back.

Eyes gleaming, sexually charged.

The room spins, then shatters.

All sound from the city above has evaporated. Like you were never in a city at all.

His chest keeps rising and falling in slow, uneven swells.

Colours bloom between the pulses, pale iridescent violets and fleeting greens.

A sudden jolt of movement from the edge of your peripheral vision.

A diffuse, bruise-coloured glow.

He is heavier than he looks.

A drop of blood shines on his lip -- he must have bitten his tongue on the way down.

Cola flavour, if you had to guess.

The pupils quiver like a failing heartbeat.

A bald spot so pristine simply cannot go unrubbed.

White spindles of leg hit your vision like a pair of flashbangs.

A small mound inside, about three inches across. Vaguely circlular.

It's like kicking a water bed.

Behind milky corneas, his eyes sharpen.

At this proximity, his aura of alcohol is near weaponised.

His eyes are deep blue.

It's like kicking a water bed.

The smell of alcohol singes the inside of your nose.

789 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 7 of 16