Medium · Perception ≥ 4
Her knuckles have turned white, holding on to that fence. She's been here for days, seething.
Motorics
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
703 · Voice lines
Her knuckles have turned white, holding on to that fence. She's been here for days, seething.
"God, why can't you just mind your own business..." she mutters.
The boy is sweating profusely, his eyes are like two black holes and his jaw is twitching as if trying to break free from the empire of his body.
"It's still piss-weak garbage!" you hear a subsonic squeak from behind the fence. "No one likes your fucking art, you should bang with your life. Murder was the case..."
Because there's a secret door hidden behind the panels of eternite. That's why they're too orderly.
Because unless Cuno lied, you should just be able to pull the panels aside.
Because it's nice and orderly. Well laid pallet. Easy on the eyes.
Wow, that's 25 reál! That's good money. You need it.
Grotesquely magnified by his +6 glasses.
There's a mean little light in his eyes.
There appear to be cisterns underneath the Union container covers.
Sounded like a woman. A woman's shoes.
Even all the way over here, there's a drop of death in the spring air.