Medium · Perception ≥ 4
Her birthmarks also signal Oranje. You don't know why, but Oranjese girls tend to come speckled with them.
Motorics
Before thought effects; other dialogue conditions may apply.
703 · Voice lines
Her birthmarks also signal Oranje. You don't know why, but Oranjese girls tend to come speckled with them.
Watching herself reflected in the bedroom window -- tall and sparkling and draped in smoke.
Behind the cinderblock houses, old pre-war ruins rise to the sky like dark palaces. The wind calls.
The buzz of electric lights blends together with the slow rumble of ocean waves at night.
It's not so different from the putrefaction of the hanged man, actually.
Inside the traps, a number of locusts crawl and tumble over one another in a tiny, chittering swarm.
Her hair is dyed blonde, with dark roots showing. Most men wouldn't exactly call her pretty -- there is a manliness to her. A coarseness.
Maybe she didn't hear you. A little louder.
"Way to abuse that power, man..." she says, thinking you can't hear her.
Her hair is dyed blonde, with dark roots showing, and she wears thick black eye-liner. Most men wouldn't call her pretty -- there is a manliness to her. A coarseness.
"What a dick... dancing around in his maid uniform..."
"I'm having it uninstalled," he mumbles to himself.
The lieutenant's aftershave. A common drugstore brand. Strong hints of pine needle.
He smells... like a man? A perfectly normal man?
The lieutenant is fastidious as a cat in matters of his personal upkeep. And yet, in the folds of his jacket you can just perceive the stale and acrid traces of oil rags, transmission fluid, and brake pads.