The secret language of machines and consumer products. Bend any device or system to your will.
- Faculty
- Intellect
- Limit
- DELDelirium
- skill checks
- 465
- Flows
- 196
- Loudest around
- You 21
- Gear
- Black Rim Eyeglasses -1Black Rim EyeglassesClothing
The world bulges under the magnifying glass effect of these thick prescription glasses.The old man they belonged to will be helpless without them, while he remains alive.Smoking Paper Bag +1Smoking Paper BagClothing
A wearable paper bag now upgraded with a drawn-on cigarette for a cool and mysterious aura.Vostatok Blendcoat +1Vostatok BlendcoatClothing
A classic Vostatok slicker, tailored for the city's months-long downpours. Ignatz's Camera +1Ignatz's CameraTools
High-grade Luzian tech. Tenebrous Maxi Skirt -1Tenebrous Maxi Skirt₽ 43 · Clothing
A no-nonsense ankle-length skirt, dark as night. Pencil Skirt -1Pencil SkirtClothing
Made from a wrinkle-free synthetic blend. Priest's Patchwork Kimono -1Priest's Patchwork Kimono₽ 40 · Clothing
A couturier's reconstruction of pre-Nestorite vestments. Sacrophobe Zero-G Trousers +1Sacrophobe Zero-G TrousersClothing
Anti-flex weave meets minimalist luxury -- perfectly fitted for a space officer. Limpador Hood +1Limpador HoodClothing
Thick rubber and a hard plastic screen complete this hermetic cage for your head. Limpador Pants +2Limpador PantsClothing
Heavy-duty rubber, cut with a billowing silhouette.
Conditioning
Emissary of the Final Society
Reinforced
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- +2
Dissonance
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- -2
Ghost Recorder - DO NOT OPEN
Reinforced
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- +1
Dissonance
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- -1
Standalone Expansion
Reinforced
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- +1
Dissonance
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- -1
The Wang Way
Reinforced
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- +1
Dissonance
- TechnoflexMaximum rank
- -1
Difficulty ladder
465Case files
Status effects touching this skill
Voices in
196Last inspected: 77. The machine-spirit long departed.
Pirate reels, with film of two different qualities carefully taped together.
Wildflowers, printed in risograph.
A discarded junction, meant for fluid lines.
You can see inside the tram through here. A free peep show.
A precision drill glints in the surgical light.
Production of these speakers ended 30 years ago.
Dried white paint -- matte. Good for covering up steel.
Like deep sea diver gear for immersions into the black depths of sedation.
Copper and steel decay.
You emerge from the tunnel into darkness. It crowds around you for a better look.
Overloaded. Working double-hard.
Your eyes struggle to adjust to the dim light provided by the recessed bulb above you.
A sense of malignant mystery emanates from the fax machine.
A thin crust of salt and jet fuel.
Gouge marks. These buttons were pried out and re-seated many times.
Signals from across space, lost forever with no receiver.
The violet night comes on like a stain. The full moon makes its stately procession as, one by one, the first of the fixed stars reveal…
A weathered aluminium sign warning against docking here.
Dissected and abandoned.
The soft sizzle of neon cottons your ears as you pass underneath.
Illegal repeater stations hidden somewhere in the city keep this TV playing Luzian music videos 24/7.
Decommissioned petrol pumps.
The apparatus this controlled no longer exists.
High-grade analogue gear, downy cones like immense eardrums.
Beautiful electricity flows through this box.
A weather-worn building looms over you, its back to the road. Yellow-beige plaster peels like parchment, exposing old brickwork.
Solid acoustics and a tunable chest piece... very expensive stethoscope.
The control panel glows steadily, its purpose fulfilled.
A non-lethal current runs through the cage.
Screenburned ghosts on glass.
Improvised wiring, machine guts spilling on the floor.
Project AUTONOMÍA's thirst for fuel was near-unquenchable.
Tiny rusted switches, their labels worn off.
The TV exhales warm air from vents at its back.
High number. There's a whole fleet of these things.
Spewing hot air. Hasn't been turned off for a long time.
Construction materials still in their box, somehow gathering rust.
A mid-range stereo system, set to standby mode.
Film spills out of the boxes, the old and very flammable kind.
No... soda all over this poor console...
The metal has rusted in some places, corroded in others.
The ever-present churn of the printing press echoes off high ceilings.
The phosphorous glow of a Lumisol Elite 82. Cartoon figures dart on screen.
A low-tech barrier.
Another tuktuk forfeit to engine failure.