Medium · Perception ≥ 4
She hasn't had time to put her make-up on -- this is her morning cigarette. She looks tired, her beauty waning faster than it ought to at her age.
Motorics
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
703 · Voice lines
She hasn't had time to put her make-up on -- this is her morning cigarette. She looks tired, her beauty waning faster than it ought to at her age.
Her eyes are brown and her face is speckled with birthmarks. She can't be more than 28.
On the sleeve of his bomber jacket -- as well as on its back -- are the same enigmatic white rectangles as on your blazer.
On the sleeve of his bomber jacket -- as well as on its back -- are enigmatic white rectangles.
The small steel tag says as much: "The Great Skua (Stercorarius skua)."
A small engraved steel tag says: "The Great Skua (Stercorarius skua)."
The smell of Commodore Red rises from the pool. Among it, distilled spirit and bits of shish-kebab.
He wears a wide leather belt around his waist and a gun holster under his arm.
Slumped on the ground like that has not improved the way the corpse smells -- the fall seems to have released something deep inside it...
The whorls are in the shape of a letter and number combination: E50.100.1000.
The only difference is a barely audible click underneath. Sounds like the end of a long dice roll.
These eyes used to be blue. Baby blue.
The density and spread of these bullet holes is surprising -- this takes a lot of bullets. Fully-automatic rifle fire.
A scattering of bullet holes is spread across the cracked wall, reaching from one corner to the other.
The scattering of bullet holes looks like one giant smiling mouth. Smiling its deadly smile.
The scattering of bullet holes looks like one giant smiling mouth. Smiling its deadly smile. Laughing at you and the world and the living.
Her hair is still slick from the shower.
Chipped white polish covers the nail. It's long and sharp, like a mini dagger. The petal crumbles on contact.