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823 checks

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.

His sleeve slides up and, for a moment, you see the hint of tattoos, black and dense.

A smeared pattern, with streaked edges. You can rule out natural irritants.

Something about 'Poor Maurito' and 'devil women.'

You feel warmth radiating from the inside. Something in there is fermenting.

Expired coffee, greasy condiment residue. Typewriter ink. Chemically processed wood pulp.

The bitter scent of rotting vegetable matter fills your nasal cavities. Saliva pools in the corners of your mouth.

The slime stings your bare skin. It feels like it will never wash off.

High pitched squeaks and the scrabbling of claws from within the tubes, it is a rat maze.

You can hear snatches of drumbeat, but you don't know where it's coming from.

Please don't imagine that. Definitely don't be tempted to drink it, either.

Swaying lantern lights, fried meat, thick smoke.

Bruised and swollen clouds gather overhead.

The slightest of shivers passes through him.

'Tell me what to do...'

You can feel every contour of the joint.

Look at all these lights. Twinkling, colourful. Lights are where the eyes want to go.

What's that? An odd etching noise coming from somewhere else in the sprawl. Familiar, somehow.

A soft hissing noise accompanies the steady beat of its cooling pumps. Sounds like a human body, amplified.

As the minutes pass, you catch yourself scanning the surroundings. Lamp posts, trash cans, flower planters...

People float by in the distance, trams rattle overhead, but all you care about is how your spine seems to be rippling with ease.

Hush as it falls.

She winks at you.

The bomb vibrates happily in your hands.

Your lips move, muscle memory. You know this song. You know the next line...

Let your mouth sing along.

You feel chalk dust settle over you.

You hear the clear sound of a drum from upstairs. Something replied.

Droplets of rain break in to party with the dust.

Moonlight peers in to see what you're doing.

You glimpse the sky through a concrete frame, grey teeth with a grey maw.

Smells like blood.

A few seconds later, you hear it crash.

He decorates the word 'song' with a wiggle of his fingertips.

823 skill checks - ZERO PARADES field manual - Page 8 of 17