Rope: Yes, I am.
Rope had walked back in just in time to hear Cursuv.
Rope was pushing a big, earthen pot. In it was a very clear, thin, liquidy substance. Around his neck was a narrow paintbrush hanging from a narrow rope.
Rope: Okay, everybody, we leave sometime tonight, when everyone thinks they're ready. In the meantime, we need to get ourselves camoflagued. Check this action out.
Rope unties his paintbrush, dips it in the liquid, and brushes lightly under each eye, then on the back of his hands, and up the fronts of his legs.
Shortly thereafter, Rope begins to waver, and he starts to fade. Soon, he is transparent, but still slightly visible.
Rope: Like I said, it's not perfect. But you gotta admit, it's harder to see me now, huh? And in the dark, it'll be damned near impossible. Eh?
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