Reading

Open fileNeed to knowMy clearance

A.Journal

Checks

9,823 checks

'Scarf'. Come on.

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

Door liable to get kicked in any minute.

The air in the apartment is very stale all of a sudden. Cigarette smoke swirls like a spell.

Your heart begins to thunder.

KINDRED. The first glass domino.

Right when they were about to make it big.

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

'Ritual'... not a term from the Operant Bureau's playbook.

Must be a Tempo styling for something significant -- all gravitas and enigma.

She was counting on it.

Uh oh. Tempo didn't know they shelved you after 91. He thought you were still... respected. Revered even.

No need to mention our half decade career ender in 'the Freezer'. Play it mysterious, teenage girls love that.

'For my old friend, CASCADE, tell her TAXMAN is ready to begin the ritual. No silly cunts! CASCADE only, person to person! CASCADE or nothing! And you tell her -- if we pull this one off, all will be forgiven!'

She has iced over with sarcasm.

'Ritual'... 'deal'... you could easily hear Tempo exchanging one word for the other...

The exit papers you discovered at the shrine grow a little heavier in your pocket.

With your old friend, it was never one deal. Always a tangle of side bets, optional riders, and overlapping interests, arranged in such a way that Tempo always wound up across the table from himself.

This time when he sat down, the other him was already slumped over the table, bleeding across it.

Hit, point awarded.

Highly likely that this sign doesn't exist.

She was going to say another name there.

This is her way of asking for help. She needs a friend.

We're currently two friends down -- we could use one too.

Here's your best shot at completing the assignment you were never officially given.

This fixture is not yet rained off. The scoreboard is bleak, but there is still time to turn it around.

A distant door slams somewhere beyond you. The soft, stifled piano carries over muffled laughter and child-velocity footsteps from the apartment above.

'And you tell her -- if we pull this one off, all will be forgiven!'

Human smuggling -- risky, yes, but not exactly earth-shattering.

As she speaks, a tiny shiver passes through her.

Highly likely that's not what it's actually called.

Track this thing down. Wield it. Relieve the world of the burden of consent.

Dildo nom de guerre. In recognition of its heft.

Or maybe himself in some form.

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

Where do you recognise that gesture from?

'NOSTALGIA' IS A SYMPTOM OF REACTIONARY MENTAL RETREAT. YOU MUST REMEMBER FORWARDS!

KINDRED. Unreachable for the last sixteen hours.

A lot of plates for one person. She must spend all her time here.

A far too familiar gesture -- something grinds and sparks against the inside of your skull.

Sudden, intense déjà vu curtains your mind.

A distant door slams somewhere beyond you. The soft, stifled piano carries over muffled laughter and child-velocity footsteps from the apartment above.

A distant door slams somewhere beyond you. The soft, stifled piano carries over muffled laughter and child-velocity footsteps from the apartment above.

A distant door slams somewhere beyond you. The soft, stifled piano carries over muffled laughter and child-velocity footsteps from the apartment above.

'And you tell her -- if we pull this one off, all will be forgiven!'

Read: A phone that you should know is tapped.

A scab she's already been picking at, destined to scar.

A flash of the bloodstain in the office, landing like a sharp boot to your stomach.

Skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 75 of 197