A.Journal

Checks

Legendary

Who are you dealing with here?

Medium

Three breaths fill the room -- two in perfect sync.

Medium

You remember him saying that, a long time ago. Chant-like. A little ritual.

Medium

This is no mere scheme. It's an enchantment, the likes of which the Operant Bureau has never before encountered.

Challenging

And yet you can't help but feel a sense of desperation clinging to it.

Easy

And yet... doesn't it chime a distant chord? The Luzian political elite being strange copies of themselves...

Medium

This is no mere persona. It's an enchantment, the likes of which the Operant Bureau has never before encountered.

Medium

Leave the door ajar. Do not lock yourself within the tyranny of the rational.

Formidable

Forbidden colours. All known laws defied.

Easy

A weave of city away, the being formerly known as PSEUDOPOD twitches in his dream.

Medium

Cigarette haze cloaks her face.

Medium

OH DEAR, OH DEAR. YOU ARE NOT TAKEN IN BY THIS UNFORTUNATE DISPLAY, ARE YOU?

Challenging

About time! Dissonance reconciled at minimum psychic cost.

Trivial

A theory often dismissed as rumour, but taken more seriously on the top levels of the Operant Bureau: the Luzian political ministry are all identical psychic grafts of the same ancient philosopher.

Easy

Just what on earth has Tempo encircled you in here?

Trivial

You are standing close to the contaminated core of grand political conspiracy.

Medium

A middle-aged man's last gasp ritual at remaining.

Easy

There's that 'They' again... The oft-invoked nemesis of 'You'.

Medium

The girl glances at the window, searching the narrow portrait of the city beyond.

Medium

An ordinary night with ordinary stars.

Medium

One of her eyes disappears behind exhaled smoke. The other eye stays on you.

Medium

This girl can't be more than seventeen. Barely a glimpse of a lifetime.

Medium

Medium

Like a day-old phone number written on the back of a young hand.

Challenging

Holiday memories of your mother, struggling with an antenna, trying to access foreign cartoons -- through the static, glimpses of a shaggy, vintage vagina.

Medium

Said for herself, not for your sake.

Medium

A pair of cold, tiny hands play a minuet up your spine.

Medium

Someone leans on a fader marked 'The World' and all sound dips out for a moment.

Easy

Medium

Medium

A ghost hologram.

Medium

As she speaks, a tiny shiver passes through her.

Easy

Probably not what it's actually called.

Medium

Acquire this instrument. Wield it. Relieve the world of the burden of consent.

Medium

What is this thing? At first glance it could pass for some unmarked consumer novelty. -- a portable television, or a handheld game system.

Medium

Quiet magic. Dormant. Danger.

Challenging

Squelching one person into another.

Medium

Medium

Finally, the Hershel Clone Army can begin to fill its deviant ranks!

Medium

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

Challenging

Medium

Sounds familiar... she's talking about Goat-Eyes, the lovelorn soul of many endeavours.

Medium

Horizontal pupils... Undersexed... You've met him. The being known as Goat-Eyes.

Trivial

The Ultra Violeti encountered this man. He scared them.

Medium

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

Challenging

You get the distinct sense she's about to confide something to you. But at the cusp, she retracts the words and puts others in their place.

Medium

Overplaying it, needlessly. The Operant Bureau's instructors would have a lot of notes.

Medium

When you were sixteen you once put your blood type down as 'mysterious' in an attempt to impress a vaguely attractive doctor.

Medium

Medium

Siccing people on them.