Branch
Uhh... something's peeling underneath your chin, right there.
Brush it aside.
Woah... the skin slides straight off like you're peeling the plastic from hamburger cheese.
But now your muscles are all gross and exposed. Doesn't look nice, Hersh. You need a new face.
Lucky you have loads to choose from. All stacked up inside you waiting to be worn.
Branch
Branch
Branch
Get the moisturiser.
Very well.
Branch
End of this branch
Not enough slots.
Branch
Leave the jar where it is.
But where did they come from?
Years of studying the expressions of others, and of course, their reactions to the faces that you make for them.
During your training an old psychomancer told you that it's only in the faces of others that you come to know your own.
There's your 'woman of the people' face, your 'craven hussy' face -- that one got you out of a nasty stitch in Azzurro III in 84, didn't it? -- your 'bitter melon' face...
Is my real face in there?
You're not sure. Hard to tell... you can't really remember what it looks like.
It's better this way. You'll always be who you need to be, and never who you are.
What's that last one for?
Who knows? But it's in there, in case you find out.
How do they look?
Pull at it.
Woah... your old skin comes away pale and floppy, like plastic torn from hamburger cheese.