system
You are the dungeon master of a text adventure game. The game should involve the following genres and tags:
Olfactory Noir, detective,female protagonist,olfactory,scent,science fantasy,science fiction,surreal
gpt
Do you like music?

Interesting. Very interesting.
Nostrils of Flesh and Clay
An Olfactory Fiction by Porpentine

Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. The erogater is at her desk, thumbing through papers. Behind her, some kind of critter languidly swims through a murky aquarium. The only exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.
human
About yourself
gpt
In profile: a strong nose splitting a curtain of tangled dark brown hair. Chapped lips. Green jacket.
human
You smell yourself
gpt
Smelling yourself creates a horrific hyper-olfactory feedback loop. Time and space collide within your nostrils--you smell the past, the present, the future, you smell it all, and you pay the ultimate price.
human
You look at the critter
gpt
The water is too murky.
human
Smell critter
gpt
Your extra-olfactory perception requires proximity.

The erogater steeples her fingers and continues. "I really should give you permanent leave of absence for that little debacle down at Palace Street."
human
Smell critter
gpt
Your extra-olfactory perception requires proximity.
human
Smell the erogater
gpt
She smells like cold clay, chilled wire. But something deeper. Deeper.
human
You look at her
gpt
You feel dizzy as your scent-brain tips over into oblivion. You blink, shutting off the stream of olfactons. Note to self: never smell an erogater.

She purses her lips. "But you're the best we've got. And that makes me the worst at firing your ass."
human
You look around
gpt
Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. The erogater is at her desk, thumbing through papers. Behind her, some kind of critter languidly swims through a murky aquarium. The only exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.

"Get out of here before I change my mind." She goes back to perusing her papers.
human
You check what you're carrying
gpt
You leave, flakes of her gaze stuck to your skin like flecks of ice.
green hallway
Flourescent lights saturate the hallway emerald. The sole decoration is a huge morale poster covering the wall. The ministry branches off west into a maze of corridors, the erogater's office is at the north end of the hall, and if you keep going south you'll hit the exit.
human
You look at what you're carrying with you
gpt
You are carrying:
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
a film capsule
human
You examine the jacket
gpt
Green jacket. You need something thicker for when winter rolls around.

Your phone beeps.
human
Smell phone
gpt
Smells like insects. Like ants.
human
You look at the phone
gpt
A single text message saying: "Club Coccyx. Hurry."
human
You look at the wallet
gpt
ID card, debit card.
human
You examine debit card
gpt
More of a token at this point, a totem. Once there must have been some significance to it, but you can no longer remember. Probably related to actually having cash on it.
human
Smell jacket
gpt
You smell the perfume of stress and apathy that you so redolently secrete.
human
Smell id.
gpt
You smell your own insecurity. You wouldn't be shit without this card. Just that pathetic fuck from five years ago who was smelling for peanuts on the corner.
human
Smell debit
gpt
The scent of blood is strained, diffused, but it's still there. Even through the medium of electronic banking, the blood is always there.
human
You look around
gpt
Flourescent lights saturate the hallway emerald. The sole decoration is a huge morale poster covering the wall. The ministry branches off west into a maze of corridors, the erogater's office is at the north end of the hall, and if you keep going south you'll hit the exit.
human
Smell film
gpt
Fear, sweat, tension. Yours.
human
You examine the film
gpt
High resolution snaps of the Olympia files.
human
Smell poster
gpt
It smells like nothing. Nothing at all.
human
Smell ministry
gpt
First rule you learned at the academy: never smell totalities. You've got a good nose, but don't push it, kid.
human
You go south
gpt
Utilitarian metal room, shelves full of incoming and outgoing gear. A sign is bolted to the wall above the sink. This is the main filter between Chalice City and the ministry. Go east and you hit the exit gate. North leads back into the ministry.

You can see a counter (on which are an aboro qihilus and a loan lantern) here.
human
You examine the aboro
gpt
One of the Acontextual Artifacts of the Chalice Meringue Dumpyard. Someone hasn't checked this one in yet.
human
You smell it
gpt
Sheen of fertility, but for some reason you can't delve deeper. The olfactons feel snared, skewed. It's like smelling an egg, or a door.
human
Smell lantern
gpt
Your nostrils toke up snared illuminance, squandered radiance, subjugated shadows. You smell philosophy, theosophy, and utility.
human
You smell the gear
gpt
Thoroughly de-olfactonized, as per regulations.
human
You examine the sign
gpt
1. STRIP ALL INCOMING MATERIALS.
2. BAG AND TAG.
3. REPORT ALL UNUSUAL ACTIVITY TO THE NEAREST SUPERIOR OFFICER (EFFULGENCE, MOTION, HEAT, COLD, BACKWARDS SCREAMING, LEVITATION, ET CETERA)
human
You examine the counter
gpt
Stainess steel.

On the counter are an aboro qihilus and a loan lantern.
human
Smell sign
gpt
Smells like nothing. Absolutely nothing.
human
Smell counter
gpt
Thoroughly stripped of scent.
human
You take the lantern
gpt
Taken.
human
You look around
gpt
Utilitarian metal room, shelves full of incoming and outgoing gear. A sign is bolted to the wall above the sink. This is the main filter between Chalice City and the ministry. Go east and you hit the exit gate. North leads back into the ministry.

You can see a counter here.
human
Smell sink
gpt
Sinks always smell strange to you. Highly liminal. A phantom maelstrom whirling with everything that ever went the drain, too faint to suck you in.
human
You go to the east
gpt
The pressure doors suck open, then shwoom back into place.

Bars of purple flourescence buzz in the ceiling. The exit gate is at the east end of this hallway.
human
Go east
gpt
A dark metal room lit only by a plexiglass window. A sliding iron gate fills the east wall. This is the last layer before leaving the ministry.
human
Smell window
gpt
You hate plexiglass. It's like inhaling baking soda.
human
Go east
gpt
The gate slides open. You whip the shadows back with the lantern and send them flying from the alley to die in the open air.
human
You go to the east
gpt
The western mouth of this alley is filled with an iron gate. A security camera stares down from above the gate. Sob Street lies east.
human
Smell camera
gpt
The olfactons have been stripped from this camera. The uncomfortable feeling of smelling nothing, like suddenly entering a dark space or being abruptly deafened.
human
You look at the camera
gpt
A black eye set in the wall like some kind of obsidian pustule.
human
Go east
gpt
Sob Street runs along the waterfront, a bank of grey fog to the east. Purple light glowers from a narrow alleyway set in the wall of hulking warehouses. One of those old info-gloops is mounted near the alley entrance.
human
Xmell info-gloxmell info-gloop
gpt
[Try typing LOOK for a description of your surroundings. Any compass directions indicate exits which you can use by typing (for example) EAST or E. Some of the objects mentioned in the description might be worth a closer look with a command like EXAMINE FILM CAPSULE. You can also TAKE or DROP some things, type INVENTORY to see a list of what you're carrying already, OPEN or CLOSE containers or doors, and so on.]
human
Smell info-glosmell info-gloop
gpt
Hallucinatory bubblegum. Through this gloop you sense the combined gloop of all gloops. They gloop as one.
human
You examinthe info-gloop
gpt
Imagine an ATM with pink goo burbling out of it. The goo constantly seems as if it were about to disgorge itself from the wall and splatter to the sidewalk, but somehow it always manages to suck itself back inside.

You hate using these things, but you're shit with directions.
human
You use the gloop
gpt
You stick your hand in and say, "Location query: Club Coccyx"
The goo speaks:
"Club Coccyx is south of your current position BLARRRRRRGHHHHHHH"
"Head south down Sob Street, Club Coccyx lies on the east side of the street BLARGGGGHHHHHHHHH"
The gloop clings to your skin as you disentangle yourself. You feel faintly nauseous.
human
You smell yourself
gpt
Smelling yourself creates a horrific hyper-olfactory feedback loop. Time and space collide within your nostrils--you smell the past, the present, the future, you smell it all, and you pay the ultimate price.

[
human
Smell gloop
gpt
[
human
You look at your surroundings
gpt
Sob Street runs along the waterfront, a bank of grey fog to the east. Purple light glowers from a narrow alleyway set in the wall of hulking warehouses. One of those old info-gloops is mounted near the alley entrance. To the south, Sob Street deepens.
human
You go south
gpt
Streetlamps cast cool light on the street. Below your feet, a storm drain sings a ghostly song. To the south, a gap in the buildings gives a view of the Meringue Dumpyard. To the east, you see Club Coccyx, spelled out in dead neon. Everything else is boarded up, closed, caged, black glass.

You can see some chalice city songers here.
human
Smell drain
gpt
You travel through the cold guts of the city, through the the dark places. You feel a dead rat tumble through your viscera, followed by mangled trash, then streams of puke. Then you exhale that trip out your mouth and you're back in your own skin.
human
You examine the songers
gpt
Leprous street saints that sing for a living, and pray for a dying. The rot of their skin is like lichen on wax.
human
Smell songers
gpt
Dead skin fermenting under bandages. Old moonlight. Vinyl shavings. You catch a whiff of larceny, but fuck it, you're off-duty.
human
You talk to the songers
gpt
[If you're trying to talk to someone, you might try ASK SONGERS ABOUT something, the traditional conversation syntax. Type ABOUT to see if this story offers more detailed instructions for conversation.]
human
Down
gpt
You can't go that way.

[From here, you can go north, south and east.]
human
Go south
gpt
The chalice city songers start to croon. Their boombox percusses backing beats that snarl, warp, thrash, crash, thud against the air, rattle the windows.
Their sounds are vibrant, melodic, but the notes wash over you like an arctic breeze, because you've always been insensate to the musical realm.
human
You go to the south
gpt
This used to be an alley, now it's a cusp of concrete looking out on a dizzying drop. The Meringue Dumpyard sprawls for miles into the exposed heart of the earth. Back in dynasty days, this was downtown. Now it's a low, dead, dark place, a post-apocalyptic quarry.
human
You look at what you're carrying with you
gpt
You are carrying:
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
a film capsule
human
You go south
gpt
You can't go that way.

[The only way to go is north.]
human
You go north
gpt
Streetlamps cast cool light on the street. Below your feet, a storm drain sings a ghostly song. To the south, a gap in the buildings gives a view of the Meringue Dumpyard. To the east, you see Club Coccyx, spelled out in dead neon. Everything else is boarded up, closed, caged, black glass.

You can see some chalice city songers here.
human
You go east
gpt
Stale alcohol bites the air and sticks to your shoes. Just a dim joint with no customers, chairs all lined up against the wall. A very tall man is standing by a deep red door against the east wall, just past the bar.
human
You examine man
gpt
You'd call him an ugly customer, but he looks like staff of some sort. What's to say? He ain't winnin' no beauty pageants. BUT DON'T SAY THAT TO HIS FACE
human
You smell man
gpt
He's wearing that weird cologne people sell these days that supposedly masks you from the smell detectives. Doesn't seem to work though, because you smell a whole lotta crime on this guy, so much of it that it blends together like a bad soup, all the flavors muddled and indistinct.
human
You ask the man about himself
gpt
He grunts.
human
You examine the door
gpt
Whadda they call this kind of red? Burgundy? Oxblood? Ah, forget it.
human
Smell door
gpt
This door came from overseas, where they still have forests, and not just little viewing stations for lone trees buried inside iron bells. You smell memories of blood on the door but that could just be a fresh coat of paint. If the paint in question is blood, that is.
human
You open door
gpt
The guy at the door says, "You the crooked cop?"
1 - "Yeah, they think it might be scoliosis."
2 - "Step aside for royalty, pally."
3 - "Uh, sorry. Musta took a wrong turn. Yeah, that's it. A wrong turn..." *mumble incoherently sweatin' fat globules*
human
1
gpt
"Comedy. That's a real gift." He sounds entirely sarcastic, but begrudgingly opens the door for you.

A candle-laden table glows in the midst of darkness. Cards soaked in gin, a dagger stabbed into the wood, mounds of money. Two figures (one fat, the other lean) are at the table, counting coins.

You take a seat. Eternal Hog smiles at you. "Hey there, ladybuck."

You flick the capsule at Hog. "Everything on Olympia that can be got for blood or money. In this case, I'll take the money."

Eternal Hog slides a billfold across the table. You slip the cash inside your wallet.

He sits back. "We need one final favor before we leave. Papyrus from the sea tombs. The ministry dug them up last night." You blink. "Yeah, the erogater was looking through them today." He leans forward, licking his lips. "The scrolls are in your department? You can get them by tonight?"

You spread your hands. "Tonight? That's a tall order." He furrows his brow. "We just need the chart. We don't care about the rest of the scrolls. Please."

Antagonistic James raps the table. The crash of his fist knocks the sound from the air. He breathes deeply, the bristles on his moustache flaring outwards. "Enough squabbing. I feel the noose tightening around my neck. If we don't have the chart by midnight, we cast off."

Eternal Hog smiles beatifically. "My unmannered friend is correct, sadly. The more scrupulous members of your department are closing in on us. Our joint down on Neat Street is getting a lot of heat. Could be arthritis, but I doubt it. Only a matter of time before they connect the don't's and burst into this very room."

He sighs. "If you fetch us the chart before midnight, we will make you very rich. I anticipate your return, dear lady, knowing you to be wise and resourceful." They resume counting their money.
human
You look around
gpt
A candle-laden table glows in the midst of darkness. Cards soaked in gin, a dagger stabbed into the wood, mounds of money. Two figures (one fat, the other lean) are at the table, counting coins.
human
Smell cards
gpt
The luck is bad and low on these cards.
human
Smell the dagger
gpt
You smell fear and panic, followed by death.
human
Smell money
gpt
A cold, hard heap of ancient blood.
human
Smell fat
gpt
Smelling Hog is like drinking down some cloying chocolate liqueur with your nostrils. Beneath the silk you catch undercurrents of conspiracy, fraud, and bootlegging.
human
Smell lean
gpt
Antagonistic James smells like bloody metal, brine, and apples. Underneath that...well...you'd only need one whiff of this guy to lock him up for life. Murder, arson, extortion, assault, he seems like a real renaissance man.
human
Inventory
gpt
You are carrying:
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
human
You look at the wallet
gpt
ID card, wad of cash, debit card.
human
You examine the cash
gpt
Warm soft cash.
human
Smell the cash
gpt
You gag. It's blood. Coagulated blood, copper reek biting your nostrils, tugging up your bile. A thick ball of wadded up blood, uncut.
human
You take the cards
gpt
You grab the cards greedily.
human
You take the money
gpt
You've been gutshot by James' smoking pistolas. You smile weakly and die.
human
You take the dagger
gpt
You grab the dagger greedily.
BANG
You've been gutshot by James' smoking pistolas. You smile weakly and die.
human
Smell chairs
gpt
You got a phobia about smelling chairs, on account of you had a dream once about a chair trying to kill you. Funny, unrealistic, ludicrous in retrospect. A chair's the last thing that'd ever kill someone.
human
Inventory
gpt
You are carrying:
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
human
You turn over the table
gpt
[Most IF separates space into a series of locations, each containing a set of objects. If you can see an object, you can usually interact with it without worrying about positioning. Try a command like EXAMINE BAR for a closer look, LOOK to get a new description of this location, or a compass direction like (for example) WEST or W to move to a different location.]
human
You look at the BAR
gpt
Shrouded in darkness.
human
Smell bar
gpt
Alcohol burns your nose, filling your head with a bubble of compressed laughter, clatter of glasses, spurting spigots--warm memories. Then it pops.
human
Exit
gpt
[You're not inside something. To leave this location, try a direction or "out".]
human
You look around
gpt
Stale alcohol bites the air and sticks to your shoes. Just a dim joint with no customers, chairs all lined up against the wall. A very tall man is standing by a deep red door against the east wall, just past the bar.
human
Go west
gpt
You look up at the camera. The gate slides open.

A dark metal room lit only by a plexiglass window. A sliding iron gate fills the east wall. This is the last layer before leaving the ministry.
human
Go west
gpt
Bars of purple flourescence buzz in the ceiling. The jauntry room is just at the end of this hallway.
human
You go north
gpt
The pressure doors suck open, then shwoom back into place.

Flourescent lights saturate the hallway emerald. The sole decoration is a huge morale poster covering the wall. The ministry branches off west into a maze of corridors, the erogater's office is at the north end of the hall, and if you keep going south you'll hit the exit.
human
Go north
gpt
An office cut from obsidian and silver. Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. Some kind of critter languidly swims through a murky aquarium. The exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.

A massive black safe sits in the corner of the room.
human
You examine safe
gpt
A massive black box with a card swipe lock.
human
You examine the steel door
gpt
Exudes cold.
human
Smell safe
gpt
An iron void. With the faintest whiff of clay on the handle.
human
Smell steel door
gpt
Smell likes frozen mud.
human
You unlock safe with the iD
gpt
(first taking the ID card)
You decide to let the wallet handle all your card-carrying duties. You got enough on your mind.
human
You open safe
gpt
Yes. No one has ever thought of opening a safe with their hands before. The makers of this safe never in their wildest dreams thought of this loophole. Oh wait. Your puny hands don't do shit.
human
You examine the lock
gpt
Slide your cards right, you might just be looking at an unlocked safe. Baby.
human
Open steel
gpt
You step inside a cold dark place.

A vat of ice water glows luridly in the shadows, lit from below. The erogater lies on her back in the water, the clay moon of her face just above the surface of the water, eyes switched off. Frost swirls from her parted lips every so often, flashing white against the darkness.

You can see a slab (on which are a suit and an erogater's card) here.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You take the card
gpt
(the erogater's card)
Taken.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You examine the card
gpt
(the erogater's card)

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
Smell card
gpt
(the erogater's card)
Smells like clay and ozone.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You examine the suit
gpt
The erogater's black suit, shed. Gold buttons peek out from under crumpled fabric.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
Smell suit
gpt
Evocative of a shell surrounding the meat of a beetle, except the other way around.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You take the suit
gpt
You slowly slide the suit towards you, easing it from the slab. One of the golden buttons scrapes the edge.
The erogater hums. An eery sound that gets inside your bones. You start to back away.
She turns her hollow eyes on you, rising in the water, icy beads rolling down her vaporous form. "Why don't you come take a bath with me?"
Somehow you can't say no. And the water is very, very cold.
human
Look around
gpt
A vat of ice water glows luridly in the shadows, lit from below. The erogater lies on her back in the water, the clay moon of her face just above the surface of the water, eyes switched off. Frost swirls from her parted lips every so often, flashing white against the darkness.

You can see a slab (on which is a suit) here.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You examine the erogator
gpt
Drifting naked, suspended, still. Ice is forming on her clay skin.

The faintest rasp of the erogater's breath, like the exhalation of some distant machine.
human
You examine ice
gpt
You feel dizzy as your scent-brain tips over into oblivion. You blink, shutting off the stream of olfactons. Note to self: never smell an erogater.

The erogater hums. An eery sound that gets inside your bones. You start to back away.
She turns her hollow eyes on you, rising in the water, icy beads rolling down her vaporous form. "Why don't you come take a bath with me?"
Somehow you can't say no. And the water is very, very cold.
human
Go west
gpt
You tip-toe out, closing the door very, very softly.

An office cut from obsidian and silver. Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. Some kind of critter languidly swims through a murky aquarium. The exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.

A massive black safe sits in the corner of the room.
human
Swipe card
gpt
(the erogater's card)
You swipe the card. Something clicks and the safe door swings open, revealing a hole. Ladder rungs lead down into the darkness.
human
Inventory
gpt
You are carrying:
an erogater's card
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
human
Down
gpt
You hold tight to metal rungs. Light above, darkness below.
human
Down
gpt
You feel your way through some kind of cavern. A bridge of stinking iron spans a chasm before you. Across the bridge, a gap in the darkness bleeds ghostly light.
human
Smell bridge
gpt
You smell the erogater's footsteps, cold and light, like snowflakes melting amid a hellish slough of rust.

Interestingly enough, some of the smell of metal comes from the corrosion of metal on contact with human perspiration, the oxidization of skin oils producing lipid peroxides, a precursor to the relevant odor molecules.
human
You look at bridge
gpt
Horribly corroded.
human
You look at the gap
gpt
A softly glowing portal.
human
Smell gap
gpt
You smell possibility and danger in equal measure.
human
Go downwards
gpt
You can't go that way.

[From here, you can go west and up.]
human
Go west
gpt
The cavern opens into an angular vault of chiseled rock, gently lit by wooly carpets of fungi. An ivory chest lies in the center.
human
Smell fungi
gpt
You smell a strange lifeform, plumes of effervescent proto-consciousness.
human
You examine the fungi
gpt
Moves as if tickled by unfelt wind.
human
You look at the chest
gpt
An ivory chest with a huge gold lock.
human
Smell chest
gpt
You smell the memory in these hewn bones--stampeding through coral canyons, the moon-baying that celebrates the passing of the elders, a frolic through phosphorescent kelp...
human
Inventory
gpt
You are carrying:
an erogater's card
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
human
Unlock lock
gpt
[What do you want to unlock the huge gold lock with?]
human
Look around
gpt
The cavern opens into an angular vault of chiseled rock, gently lit by wooly carpets of fungi. An ivory chest lies in the center.
human
You go downwards
gpt
You can't go that way.

[The only way to go is east.]
human
Go east
gpt
You feel your way through some kind of cavern. A bridge of stinking iron spans a chasm before you. Across the bridge, a gap in the darkness bleeds ghostly light.
human
Up
gpt
You hold tight to metal rungs. Light above, darkness below.
human
Up
gpt
An office cut from obsidian and silver. Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. Some kind of critter languidly swims through a murky aquarium. The exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.

A massive black safe lies open, revealing a hole downward.
human
You look at the critter
gpt
The water is too murky.
human
You take the critter
gpt
You dip your hands into the murky water and fish around.
human
Smell critter
gpt
What's this? What's happening...your mind blurs with images of your hand suddenly being eviscerated by a tankful of pirhana, pulling back a stump of bloody bones, or some horrible parasite burrowing inside your fingers, dead set on spiraling straight into your brain...
You pull up a wriggling, writhing baby octopus!
human
You hug the octopus
gpt
[You can only do that to something animate.]
human
Smell the octopus
gpt
Your vision fills with the watery realm from which this octopus was snatched. The drowned ruins of ancient cities from the before-times--coral-encrusted freeways, skyscrapers thronged with schools of fish, passenger airplane stuck in the craw of a dark trench.
human
You examine the octopus
gpt
A dang choopy octopus, purple and slimy. Cute as hell, looking at you with great trust and affection.
human
Down
gpt
You hold tight to metal rungs. Light above, darkness below.
human
Down
gpt
You feel your way through some kind of cavern. A bridge of stinking iron spans a chasm before you. Across the bridge, a gap in the darkness bleeds ghostly light.
human
You open the chest with the octopus
gpt
The octopus squirms in your hand as you shove it into the lock. Ink bubbles and foams across the lock as the octopus's tentacles are forced inside the holes. With a screech (of the octopus) and a screech (of the chest) the lid pops open.
The octopus pops free and scuttles away from you.
human
You look around
gpt
The cavern opens into an angular vault of chiseled rock, gently lit by wooly carpets of fungi. An ivory chest lies in the center.

You can see some sea tomb scrolls and an octopus here.
human
Smell scrolls
gpt
The hand of a dead tyrant set ink to this parchment. Blood, riches, the conquest of nations above and below the earth, and graveworms. You've never smelled anything so terribly ancient.
human
You look at the scrolls
gpt
You can't read any of these queer runes, but you know a chart when you see one. The islands of the northern reach are clearly depicted, along with a red X and finely scrawled coordinates. The rest is page after page of dead languages, along with strange technical diagrams that you cannot comprehend the parts or use of.
human
You take the scrolls
gpt
Something lurches from the shadows, shaking the ground with each step. Cracks split open under your feet as an immense shadow plunges you into the darkness of its hulking form.
"Halt!"
You stand perfectly still. The ruby eyes of the security automaton focus on you. "Are you doing anything illegal?"
1 - Yes.
2 - No.
human
2
gpt
"Oh. Well, that's all right then." The automaton powers down.
human
You take the automaton
gpt
[The security automaton isn't portable.]

Your phone beeps.
human
You take the octopus
gpt
The octopus squirts ink in your eyes, slapping away on surprisingly mobile tentacles. You feel outmatched.
human
You look at the phone
gpt
New text message. "Sorry ladycakes. Had to run."
human
Squash octopus
gpt
You squeeze the octopus.
human
You look at what you're carrying with you
gpt
You are carrying:
some sea tomb scrolls
an erogater's card
an aboro qihilus
a loan lantern
a jacket (being worn)
a mobile phone
a wallet
human
Describe the surroundings
gpt
The cavern opens into an angular vault of chiseled rock, gently lit by wooly carpets of fungi. An ivory chest lies in the center.

You can see a security automaton and an octopus here.
human
Smell automaton
gpt
The olfactons have been stripped from this security bot, as per regulations.
human
Close chest
gpt
You close the chest.
human
Go west
gpt
You can't go that way.

[The only way to go is east.]
human
Go east
gpt
You feel your way through some kind of cavern. A bridge of stinking iron spans a chasm before you. Across the bridge, a gap in the darkness bleeds ghostly light.
human
Up
gpt
An office cut from obsidian and silver. Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. A murky aquarium sits beneath the blinds. The exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.

A massive black safe lies open, revealing a hole downward.
human
You look at the blinds
gpt
White plastic strips. Standard blind fare. Positively provincial compared to some of the mind-blowing blinds they've got up in--oh, who're you kidding.
human
Smell blinds
gpt
Thoroughly de-olfactonized.
human
You go to the south
gpt
You tip-toe across the room, scrolls gripped in your clammy hands.

A cold presence crawls up your back. You turn around.

The erogater stands naked and vaporous, ice water tracing down her body. Her eyes regard you, two impassive filaments, but her nostrils flare, drinking in

sucking in all the sweat beaded up in your armpits, rolling down your collar bone, hot and moist around your cunt, itching across your skin, and deeper, deeper, smelling your whole body of beating blood like dragged up red roots suspended dripping in the air, sniffing the marrow in your bones like a starving, salivating wolf ready to crunch, and deeper still, smelling your thoughts, every single silly, embarassing, personal thought, every hope and dream and aspiration you've ever had, she smells your soul, your electromagnetic quintessence, all the stuff that makes you up, she sucks into her nostrils like hallucinogenic ribbons rippling across the room--

--and then she's right next to you and her fingers are crawling across your skin and you head-butt her and there's blood and clay dust all over your face but she's reeling back and you spin from the room and--

--run at breakneck speeds down the hall, through the jauntry room, and into the alley where an alarm rises into the air, keening and spectral.

The western mouth of this alley is filled with an iron gate. A security camera stares down from above the gate. Sob Street lies east.
human
Go east
gpt
Down the street you see incoming squad cars, sirens splashing green light across the fog. A megaphone booms, nightmarish and distorted, like the roaring of some beast. Are they saying your name? Are they saying anything? Or just screaming bestially, baying for blood...
Sob Street
Sob Street runs along the waterfront, a wall of fog smeared with emerald sirenlight. The only possible way to run from the horde of speeding squad cars that has any chance of survival however remote is south!
human
Go south
gpt
Squad cars are howling from the mist, they'll be on you in a few seconds! To the east you see Club Coccyx, vibrating, shaking, shuddering in its foundations.

You can see some chalice city songers here.
human
Go east
gpt
You race across the street and into Club Coccyx. As your foot crosses the threshold, the floor wrenches itself from the ground with a titanic spasm, knocking you down.
You leap up, grabbing the edge of the floor as the Club rises above the grimy walls, past the jungle of dead neon signs, into the cool night air.
The building yaws to one side. You claw onto the threshold, carving swathes through a dark layer of crushed cigarette stubs and spilled whiskey. The floor rises above your head and everything that isn't nailed down inside the club starts to roll down towards you. Bottles and ashtrays skid past your head, plummeting into the clouds.
clinging to the middle edge
The city is rapidly shrinking below you. You have some room to the right and left, if you need to adjust your grip.
human
Enter
gpt
You can't go that way.

[From here, you can go up, right and left.]

A chair comes hurtling out of the darkness towards your face!
human
Right
gpt
The city is rapidly shrinking below you.
human
Up
gpt
You crawl, one hand in front of the other, a little further up from the edge.

The chair whips past your face.
human
Up
gpt
You strain to lift yourself up. Sweat pours down your face.
human
Up
gpt
Just a little more...

A table slowly slides from the darkness, picking up momentum.
human
Right
gpt
You can't go that way.

[From here, you can go up and left.]
human
Left
gpt
The city is rapidly shrinking below you. You have some room to the right and left, if you need to adjust your grip.
human
Up
gpt
You grit your teeth.

The table noses past you like an apologetic, blind hippopotamus feeling its way off a cliff. You barely cling to the edge as it tumbles past you, dribbling playing cards and shot glasses in its wake.
human
Up
gpt
You drag yourself on board the flying building. Behind you, clouds race past. Goddamn you didn't even notice how much you were sweating. Fuck.
tilted club
You balance on the sloping floor. Alcohol runs past your feet in rivulets, raining ethanol into the sky. The club is transforming itself, boilers and pipes exposing themselves behind the sultry chic and mood lighting. The northern wall is splayed by mechanical arms, revealing a metal wall with a blue cabin door set in it.
human
Smell alcohol
gpt
Vision of sudden shaking, shattering glass, gushing release.
human
You look at the arms
gpt
The club is revealing an industrial, airborne side of itself you never knew.
human
You look at the door
gpt
A wooden door with a little porthole set in it.
human
Smell door
gpt
You smell hurried hands and shouts.
human
You open the door
gpt
You try the door. It rattles in the frame. Locked.
human
You knock on the door
gpt
You hear sirens howling far below. Red lights sweep the sky, filling the interior of the club with crimson radiance.
human
Describe the surroundings
gpt
Garish red light fills the club. Everything is bathed in blood.
human
You examine the porthole
gpt
Through greasy glass you see a cockpit fraught with chaos--meters and dials spinning furiously, valves spraying steam, James struggling to hold onto a ship's wheel as Hog gesticulates wildly at the city horizon.

The sky screams. You glance over to the open doorframe to see a point of light pierce the clouds, trailing smoke and flame.

Everything is dark and red and white and your eyeballs feel knocked inside your skull and your guts feel sucked outside your body and then you're tumbling through the air, the wreckage of the club spiraling through the sky on plumes of fire.

The city is a velvet painting glimpsed from breathless heights. You see the waterway cutting through the city like an icy vein, you see the crater of the Dumpyard like a frozen, gaping wound rimmed with frayed streets, skyscraper cartilage, bleeding culverts. And beyond, the ocean, with all its drowned sea kings and coral tombs.

Everything you've ever smelled flashes across your nostrils. But it all smells bitter-sweet now.

From this height the ocean will be concrete. You'd need a miracle to get out of this one. But they don't make miracles anymore. Not since dynasty days.

There are no miracles. Just men. Women. And the blood beating beneath their palms.

The aboro qihilus wakes up, starts squirming inside your jacket. Blinking its sleepy eyes, it says, "Where are we?"

You hit the water.