You barely get to take one step -- the invertebrate reacts with uncanny speed, skating away across the water. It's gone, like a skipping stone, leaving nothing but rings on the sea's calm mirror...
Physique
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
673 · Voice lines
You barely get to take one step -- the invertebrate reacts with uncanny speed, skating away across the water. It's gone, like a skipping stone, leaving nothing but rings on the sea's calm mirror...
And you, a detective of the RCM, standing there with your mouth agape -- alone and dumbfounded.
The sensation is electrifying, resounding through your body.
Slowly, with your breath held, you take two small steps toward the phasmid. The creature lets out a series of ultrasonic clicks that swarm around your head like swallows...
You would be right to drown this shit in alcohol. Drown it... until your neurons depolarize. Until it's gone, melted.
Silence, her nuptial gown flows in the wind, wraps around her holy body...
See. If you drank with her, you'd be cool again. If you drank with her, you could have sex on alcohol...
A thousand times, you beaten animal. A thousand times you've raised that fabric. What is underneath has always calmed you, centred you. Made you sane.
A warm gust wraps her gown around her waist and between her thighs.
You may be what they call a big dick cop.
C'mon, wake up! The way she said she's not Sylvie -- practically begging you to make a move. Just go for it.
Change of plans -- her number.
Odd... she didn't sound menopausal. Must be frigid or something. Oh well.
As your parasympathetic nervous system I call bullshit. Now ask her!
Look at that! His eyes dilate. That's joy, my man. You wouldn't be able to tell, but his glasses just magnify it.
Oh, did you hear that? Pure lust. She's a wild one! Throw her a curve-ball, see if she's down to party.
Feels good to get that off your chest, right? Celebration with beer?