Coloratura
Lynnea Glasser
absurd colors cover art feelie map gender-neutral protagonist horror Hypertext IF Competition 2013 IFComp Game IFComp Winner Inform 7 lesbian Lovecraft Lovecraftian miniature protagonist Miss Congeniality Winner multiple endings nautical nautical directions no inventory nonhuman protagonist ocean parser science fiction ship systematic puzzles telepathy Xyzzy Awards 2013 XYZZY Best Game XYZZY Best Individual PC XYZZY Best Individual Puzzle XYZZY Best Puzzles
Stolen away by apathetic Blind Ones, your only desire is to return to your Cellarium and the Song of the Universe. They should understand. You shall make them to understand.
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The Song of the Universe envelops you, pulsing through you in the otherworldly aether. You sing, sing, sing the song of ancients, of the unending, of all to come and be. Your semi-aqueous body kneads upon itself, in time to the rhythm: Spread, then fold, spread, then fold. The Universe echoes infinitely your leitmotif: Erupt, engulf, erupt, engulf.

White:

Bliss.
Bliss. A physical jolt momentarily tears you apart from the
Song, grounds you in the physical world. For a moment all you can see is the crystal Cellarium, perfectly sized to house your viscous body. Grey: Tedium. Boredom. You immediately launch yourself back
into the Song.
The disturbance returns. Then another, and another. The rhythm is interrupted. Your connection to the Universe fades. The jostling gives way to a slow but steady movement. Kidnapped. Stolen. Abused. Lifted? Out of the trench. The bathymetric pressure change burns; the walls of your home become now painfully entombing. Hoisted, sloshed, disoriented, finally: dropped.

After a time, you sense them, surrounding your Cellarium. The Others, the Blind Ones. You've heard of their kind. They ooze yellow: Curiosity. Excitement. They do not sense you inside. You are
safe. Their meat-tongues eke out disgusting, shrill noises. With horrified fascination, you realize that they are singing: faint colors in a pathetic shadow of the real Song. You easily parse their meanings.

"...locals could have created it?....formation is natural at that level....wet lab for testing...."

While the Others' outside stutterings are disturbing, your Cellarium has come to a rest, and the Song beckons you... to once again sing and dance. Perhaps, despite the abduction, you still can.
While the Others' outside stutterings are disturbing, your Cellarium has come to a rest, and the Song beckons you... to once again sing and dance. Perhaps, despite the abduction, you still can.



A white, crystalline Ancient structure that perfectly houses you. The muffled voices swirl yellow and green: intrigue and excitement as they staccato to each other.
About yourself
A physical, gelatinous body. One of the Ancients, the Eternals: The Aqueosity.
Sing
You launch yourself back into the bliss, the harmony, the rhythm. From up here, it feels different, but still welcoming. Away fades the physical world: the Cellarium, the room, the muffled voices and their primitive colors. Replaced with the resplendent Song of the Universe. But something unexpected is here. There are other Blind Ones, different humans. Sleepers, drifters, each one alone in disharmony, singing a selfish song of apathetic deafness, rejoicing in their discordance. You can't truly connect while they sing so jarring, but you could help them, help the sleepers. They deserve to Sing too.
Sing
You cannot Sing properly while surrounded by such disharmony. The sleepers, they sing disjointed and pathetic. There must be a way to help them.
You examine the sleepers
All pluck out their own primitive, discordant tune, not even creating a passable solo melody. It is soul-wrenching to witness. You cannot possibly enjoy your own beauty knowing such emotional poverty before you. Their strong connections to the physical world anchor them, prevent them from being able to Sing in true beauty.
You look at your surroundings
The Song of the Universe, with every creature dancing and coloring and sharing and exchanging in happiness and harmony. The sleepers drift and sing a primitive song. It is apathetic and selfish, and disrupts the harmony.
You sing to the sleepers
They sing blind solos. Their connections to the physical prevent them from being able to harmonize with you.
You examine Universe
Every Ancient and animate in all of space and time, weaving together the beauty and majesty of cohesion. It sings white in immaculate beauty and perfection.
Harmonize
(the primitive song)
You're having trouble combining that (the primitive song)
into a better state.
You examine Song
Random, off-tune, irregular beats, each one of them of a different style. It is a disgusting mess. They would be happier - everything would be better - if they were able to harmonize with the Universe properly, but their ties to the physical restrict them.
You listen to the sleepers
They all sing the best that they are able, but their tethers to the physical prevent them from being able to sing, to tumble, to combine, to harmonize. So they sing Blindly, each their own self-absorbed tune.
You examine physical
While you're in the Song, the tedium of the physical fades completely, and your Cellarium is one of those physical objects.
You touch Cellarium
The Cellarium is the thing that allows you to ignore the physical world. You'd rather focus on being able to get back to singing, and that means helping these others sing as well.
You examine Cellarium
You untether them.
White.
Peace.
One by one, their melodies harmonize: they truly connect to one another in a strong and beautiful swelling of colors. You ignite with hope and pride. However, in the midst of your bliss-creating wake, you encounter one Drifter whose ties are oddly strung: He is one of the few Blind Ones who can Walk while Singing. He can see, understand, comprehend. He witnesses. Drifter starts to awaken. That must not happen: he will throw away his chance at happiness.

While you're in the Song, the tedium of the physical fades completely, and your Cellarium is one of those physical objects.

This Drifter has pushed himself nearly fully back into the physical.
You examine Drifter
His connection to this world is fading, quickly. His ties are pulling him back to the physical. It needs to be cut quickly before he is out of your grasp.

The Drifter leaves the bliss, and you turn to your Singing. There is a great disturbance that you decide to investigate, but your Cellarium has been fastened shut and you are unable to escape it. The Blind Ones handle you some more - poking and prodding - but eventually, in a flurry of green excitement, they stick a rod in you, and leave you alone to sing. And you join in as best you can, but the rod is always there, a splinter nagging at you, preventing you from fully singing. But it is still lovely, and you join in as best you can.
Off-white. Happiness.
You examine blind Ones
All pluck out their own primitive, discordant tune, not even creating a passable solo melody. It is soul-wrenching to witness. You cannot possibly enjoy your own beauty knowing such emotional poverty before you. Their strong connections to the physical world anchor them, prevent them from being able to Sing in true beauty.
You cut drifter
Drifter attempts to flee you: lucid and aware, but still completely Blind. He does not know, does not understand: cutting the ties will grant him bliss. You will give him bliss.

You manage to sever many of his ties, but his resistance has disappointingly ruined the process, and now he has trapped himself in a kind of limbo. Part of him in the physical world where you cannot influence. The resulting black and stabbing mess is incredibly painful to listen to. As he attempts to fully shove himself back into the other world, he screams a report of everything he senses there, on repeat.
You listen to the screams
...top bunk, snoring shipmates, bed, itchy sheets, top bunk,
sweat, intruder? intruder! sheets, some voices, top bunk, other shipmates, snoring, snoring, snoring, bed, wet sweat, sheets, rough sheets, intruder pressing my chest, top bunk, bed...
Sing
You Sing and Fold: push apart, consume, push apart, consume again. You join into the music of the Universe, and relief overwhelms you as the Universe itself mirrors your motions. White. Bliss...

You hear a faint black flurry from the physical. Then, a mechanical roar rips away the Universe, and you are snapped back into your aqueous body. Back to the Cellarium. To the physical. Everything is moving again. Not up, but away. Realization: they will never grant you peace. Determination: return yourself and your Cellarium to the proper place. But first, this unnatural movement must be stopped.

A white, crystalline Ancient structure that perfectly houses you. The muffled voices have left, and the surrounding room is empty.

The human-place is just outside.

You fold. Glimpses of white bliss tempt you, but they are too fleeting, and it feels somehow different. The Cellarium needs to be returned to its appointed place.
Leave
With great effort, you push the seamless lid off of your Cellarium as the dry air pricks at your tensing surface. You notice that everything is covered in faint traces of colors from the Blind Ones as you roll off the table and plop some distance to the ground. You sense colorless motion from somewhere else on this vessel. Something is pushing it, and that thing must be stopped.

A zoo, a macabre collection of stolen minerals and pilfered samples. They have been studying your home, your infinite junction. Would you be just another trophy -- their final trophy? Centered in the room is a large metal table with your opened Cellarium displayed prominently.

The interstitial room is to the west.
You examine the minerals
Minerals that you recognize as being from around your home.
You examine Cellarium
A block of anhydrite cut into a perfect cube and etched with the intricate harmonics of the timeless Universe. The lid is off, and the Cellarium is open.
You examine table
On the large metal table is your crystalline Cellarium.
You go west
A long metallic hallway that seems to span the length of the vessel. Multiple openings into other rooms waft hints of their purpose, but most pressing is the unnatural movement to the southwest spurring this monstrosity away from your home.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The collection room is to the east, and one small unexplored room is to the west. The pounding room is to the southwest, and a closed hatch is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.
Go southwest
The urgent apathy of this room is overwhelmingly confusing. A dead grey creature furiously pounds away: pushing the vessel at a deafeningly loud pace, yet desiring nothing, knowing nothing. The gigantic whirling, chewing machine fills the room with its deafening beat and blistering fever.

The interstitial room is to the northeast.
You examine the machine
A gigantic dead beast, whirling and chewing, stoking flames that are smothered to normalcy by a cannula of cold pipes. The flow from the pipes is what keeps the whole system running.
You sing to the machine
You sing of ritardando, of holds, of caesura. The unliving engine is completely Blind to any song.
You sing to the pipes
There are so many parts of the engine, many of them whirring and burning and dangerous. There must be a weak spot.

The vessel's tempo increases steadily.

You sing of ritardando, of holds, of caesura. The unliving pipes are completely Blind to any song.
You enter the pipes
The pipes are part of a closed system, but the device attached to them isn't.

You ooze a small part of yourself through the slotted pores of the device. Your conductive body forms multi-directional currents that are simultaneously overwhelming and confusing to the machine. It sputters one final attempt at reconciling all the directions, beeps frantic red, then slows to grey before squeaking out. Black. Sleep.
You retract yourself.

The chewing stops. The pounding stops. The ocean drags the adrift vessel into a blessed ritardando. The Blind Ones approach, frantic and trampling. There is brief excitement in another nearby room, then back again in the interstitial room. Soon, they will be here.
You hide
You cram yourself into an unnoticeable position.

Two of the humans burst into the room. You vaguely recognize one as being in charge: Captain. She blasts streaks of uneasy orange with undertones of commanding violet. The other is much more nervous, corkscrewing tightly in red-orange folds. Obviously she is the beast's handler: Engineer. They searchingly clunk about the engine.

They are much bigger than you expected, certainly much bigger than you. But they cannot be without empathy. You attempt to reach out to the Blind Ones, to ask them for help, to connect and communicate and sing in harmony, but the humans cannot hear. They cannot understand. None of them can, you realize. Their ignorance will make them dangerous; there must be a safe way to reach them.
You sing white
If you are trying to color something, please specify the target
that you would like to color (e.g. >color man red). Also, a list of colors can be accessed with the command >COLORS. If you just want to sing, try >SING.

Once again, you can see the colors of their pitiable Song of clashing teeth, mushing lips, and vibrating membranes - each note an emotional, simplistic, story. The dissonant dialogue is even more jarring this close, but you manage to keep pace. Engineer quickly smooths out into a rounded indigo. "... easy fix. A simple replacement."
Color engineer black
Engineer is too focused to be influenced.

Captain continues to churn anxious orange, "We need to get them to a hospital ASAP. Medic doesn't know what the fuck is going on with the crew, and we already have to eat the cost of abandoning the transponders. I need to know right now if I can trust you on this, or if I need to send out an S.O.S."
You color the Captain blue
Captain is too strong to be influenced.

Engineer solidifies, strong and sure.

Captain churns further, folding over herself. Indecision.
Uncertainty. She hangs, momentarily simultaneously trusting
indigo and stubborn ultraviolet. In this delicate state, you could color her either way...
You color the captain indigo
You reach out, caressing Captain's delicate aura, willing it to become indigo. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Captain physically touches Engineer with a kind of emotional significance that is unreadable to you. "I trust you," she oozes in incepted indigos. "I'm going to go tell that medic that we may have a problem," she finalizes before turning away and heavily, humanly, limb-pushing down the passageway. Engineer exhales an unnecessary stream of air out her mouth, and swings her body and limited gaze to the machine.
You look at Engineer
A Blind One, a human. Probably a female.

Her light indigo aura tapers fixedly.

Engineer opens the casing of the temperature gauge. Blue.
Hope.
Color Engineer green
Engineer is too focused to be influenced.

Engineer eye-dances the insides of the device. Yellow.
Investigation.
Wait
Time passes.

Engineer seeks for something among the cold parts. Yellow.
Focus.
You look at Captain
You can't see any such thing.
I beg your pardon?
You enter Engineer
You Sing of aura-joinings, of unity, of perfect cohesion. Possessing a creature requires completely displacing its mind and will. In the Song, possession was a harmonic technique to create higher order and beauty, but these Blind Ones have no such inclinations, and completely resist your influence: it is difficult enough to even Color them. However, if Engineer understood the splendor of the Universe...

Engineer moves parts around in a way that seems significant.
Green. Engagement.
Color Engineer blue
Engineer is too focused to be influenced.

Engineer closes the casing of the gauge. Green. Satisfaction.
You describe your surroundings
The gigantic machine fills the room with its silence. Engineer, in a cloud of focused and contented green, touches with the machine.
The interstitial room is to the northeast.

Engineer bubbles into a self-focused gleeful green as the machine resumes its apathetic, mindless life. The entirety of the vessel moves again... away. You warble in despair. You just need enough
time so that you can figure out how you can communicate to them. You just need a break. You just need it to stop.
You stop
(Engineer)
Ending a melody is the most terrible thing you could do. Are you sure you want to attempt this?
No
You decide to focus on restoring your own song through more harmonious methods.
You stop the machine
The Blind One would surely notice you tampering with the machine in front of her. You need a way to permanently destroy the engine. The cold pipes need be stoppered.
You examine the pipes
An unnatural, cold fistula, shivering protective violet with the liquid it pumps. Glialed to the pipes is a curious device.
You examine the device
It beeps electric contentment out of small slits, and allows cooled water to flow through it.
You look at the slits
Small slits that lead to the internal electric workings of the pipe device.
You enter the slits
The Blind One would surely notice you tampering with the machine in front of her. You need a  way to permanently destroy the engine. The cold pipes need be stoppered.
Sing
You fold. The music is faint and the song warms you, but you know you cannot truly Sing without being in your Cellarium at the proper place.
You look at Engineer
A Blind One, a human. Probably a female.

Her bright green aura bubbles gleefully.
Color Engineer blue
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become blue. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

You spark a brief string of memories in Engineer, but she soon settles back into contented green. Your influence isn't very strong over her. There may be more value in things elsewhere.
Color engineer yellow
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become yellow. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

You spark a brief curious examination of the room, but Engineer quickly returns to contented green. Your influence isn't very strong over her. There may be more value in things elsewhere.
Go northeast
You emerge from your hiding spot.

A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel. The Blind Ones left open a passageway to the southeast, you notice.
The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The collection room is to the east, and one small unexplored room is to the west. The pounding room is to the southwest, and the open newly opened room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.
You go to the southeast
The protector, the ameliorator, this is what keeps the dead beast calm. A simple set of connecting pipes steals heat from the engine, stores it in a tank of dead and artificial water, which is itself then soothed by a living water vat of pumped water, cooled with its own hose system.

The interstitial room is to the northwest.
You examine the pipes
Metallic, hollowed bones, pumping hot and cold in a dead, apathetic constant rhythm.
You look at the vat
In a horrifically efficient system, water humming with life is sucked up via hoses into the heating chamber, burned clean of life, and then spit out back into the ocean. The soothing cold and songs of the ocean are consumed mindlessly.

The vessel's tempo increases steadily.
You examine the living water
The water pulses within the pipes, tubes and cavities.
You sing to the water
You emotionally, mentally sing to the object (the water) but
it does nothing, only continues to repeat its given song and narrative.
You enter the tank
The heated tank is part of a closed, piped system that you can't enter. The hoses that feed the vat, however, do seem fairly weak.
You enter the hoses
You can't enter them while they're whole, so you decide to fix that. In the system of hoses, the exhaust hose radiates furious heat, and so you focus your attention on the intake hose: colder, and safer. You surround the intake hose, and feel it crackle from inside you. As the plastic oxidizes, bubbles trickle through your aqueous body and cause small bursts in your surface tension with a sensation that is actually somewhat pleasant. In a sudden explosion of energy, a jet of living water bursts through one of the hoses, forcefully spraying you away from the chaos.

The mechanics of the cooling vat thwarted, soon the entirety of the beast catches up with its parts and frictions to a halt. Living water continues to vomit uncontrollably from the ripped hose. You sense the handler approaching from the passageway, and you feel nervously conspicuous.
You hide
You cram yourself into an unnoticeable position.

Engineer peals yellow desperation as she searches the room. Not noticing you, she turns to the vomitous mouth and tendon-muscle-attends the seacock in a way that seals it. As she unfurls in green relief, you become aware of something strange: the bubbling hose sensation, but not from your body proper. A small fleck of your Aqueosity was sprayed on the exhaust pipe, and is eating through it. Suddenly, the other hose bursts in a high-registered hiss, expelling its contents onto Engineer. She warps maddened black, stabbing in every note of every octave, then moves to the floor in a writhing mass of altered flesh.
You enter Engineer
You Sing of aura-joinings, of unity, of perfect cohesion. Possessing a creature requires completely displacing its mind and will. In the Song, possession was a harmonic technique to create higher order and beauty, but these Blind Ones have no such inclinations, and completely resist your influence: it is difficult enough to even Color them. However, if Engineer understood the splendor of the Universe...

Captain enters, and her bubble of commanding violet melts into a horrified mess of orange. Medic follows nervously from behind, and examines all the meat-parts of the black, dissonant mess. Together, they transport Engineer up and away. You hope that her melody can be salvaged; it is a terrible thing for a Song to end, even one so simplistic and un-tuned.
Look around
Silent and cold, the system of pipes, boilers, vats, hoses and water have all been stoppered shut by your intervention.

The interstitial room is to the northwest.
Go northwest
You emerge from your hiding spot.

A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The collection room is to the east, and one small unexplored room is to the west. The silenced room is to the southwest, and the open pipe room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.
Go west
The faint colors swirl mixing into a confusing aurora of lingering feelings. Piles of cloth ooze uncountable emotions. One cold metal prison sits quietly, while a heated prison vibrates to a swelteringly fast pace.

The interstitial room is to the east, and a vent leads up.
You look at the vent
A rigid arteriole leading up.
Up
You press yourself up through the vent with reliance on friction and clever weight-shifting. As you approach the next room, fear freezes you. Above, you hear the hostile, vigilant bass of a Blind One. Her unfocused song sweeps the strange room above like sonar. This one would notice: she would see. You cautiously slide back down.
You look at the prison
Which do you mean, the cold metal prison or the heated metal prison?
Cold
A strange sort of crude metal prison. It sits stoic and patient.
You examine the clothes
A disgusting soup of human salt.
You examine heated
A strange sort of crude metal prison. It hums and vibrates in an inefficient song whose only purpose seems to be excitement and temperature.
Go east
A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The collection room is to the east, and the dredging room is to the west. The silenced room is to the southwest, and the open pipe room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.
You go to the north-west
It seems this is where the Drifter physically resided. His mind statics grey, and you can sense his fragmentation. You feel a desire to reach out to him, to fill his colorless void. However, a human moves freely about the room, trying halfway to connect and sing and understand with the drifters with mercy. She is close to succeeding, but something is holding her back.

Rows upon rows of humans, unmoving on stacked shelves, deeply connected to the Universe, basking in its glory. A single Drifter sings silently with apathy and detachment.

The interstitial room is to the southeast.

The Mercy moves between the bodies, grasping out to them in an unbalanced orange horror. You realize that her Blindness prevents her from seeing their bliss, their perfect happiness.
You look at Mercy
A Blind One. Possibly a female?

Her bright orange aura churns anxiously.

The Mercy reaches out in faint grasps of curious yellow to one of the sleepers, but the instinct is too quickly overwhelmed by her orange repulsion: she is afraid of what the answer might be.
You color Mercy yellow
You reach out, caressing Mercy's delicate aura, willing it to become yellow. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

The Mercy forcefully perks into yellow curiosity. She rapidly leaps disjunct from one sleeper to another, examining each thoroughly. She comes upon the Drifter and she senses, she realizes... her aura bursts red in panic.
You hide
You cram yourself into an unnoticeable position.

The Mercy reaches out to the grey, apathetic Drifter, pushing for colors, demanding notes. She is met by more grey, more static. He has lost too many connections, he cannot engage her. The Mercy offers part of her mind, her sanity to the drifter. He consumes it purposelessly, digesting the colored scales and chords and beats into a dull, arrhythmic static.
You color drifter blue
You don't feel comfortable risking manipulating him while others are around.

The Mercy once again sings to the Drifter, attempting to force a connection. To your surprise, the Mercy has an effect. The Drifter momentarily colors and connects, and swirls into a pattern other than the blank static. You didn't think that Blind Ones could be capable of connecting on such a level. "Oh God, your eyes are moving, you're awake. Just wait right there, I... I'm going to go get the medic. And the captain. They'll know what to do." Mercy self-consumes in revolted orange and immolating red panic as she muscle-tendon-bone moves. You feel her aura leave and return with others.
Color Drifter white
You don't feel comfortable risking manipulating him while others are around.

Medic and Mercy follow the room-swelling Captain, "...delay may still be necessary..." she drones. But Medic pricks demanding infrared, "I know how expensive and bad rescues look. But this shit that's going on? Severe burns, unresponsiveness, potential paralysis? We need to take care of this." The Mercy holds an anxious caesura as she examines Drifter. They all three wobble in instability.
You color Medic the yellow
You reach out, caressing Medic's delicate aura, willing it to become yellow. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Medic racks through possibilities, "There's nothing I know of that could have caused this. It's that thing: the cube. It's poisoning them." But Captain asserts ultraviolet, "Do you want to end up like those astronauts who 'saw' the alien?" Mercy chimes calming blue, "I examined it. It's got a weird shape, but it's just a plain crystal."
Possess Drifter
You don't feel comfortable risking manipulating him while others are around.

Medic meeks hesitant, but annoyingly persists, "Even if we don't find something... I just want to look at it." Mercy chimes agreeable blue, "There can't be any harm in that," and Captain relents, "Sure. We'll go check it out." Captain, Medic and Mercy drift into the passageway. Finally, you are alone with Drifter. You wonder if he can be colored again.
Possess Drifter
He has so little will over his body, you feel it would be easy to push him out and control the flesh. But upon severing his connections, he lost his link to the other world. There is nowhere to push him to, and he'd remain in steadfast control of his body.
Color Drifter white
Creating pure bliss in someone else is a feat too difficult for you.
Colors
Infrared: Anger, hate.
Red: Panic, horror.
Orange: Revulsion, unease.
Yellow: Curiosity, intrigue.
Green: enjoyment, engagement.
Blue: Love, fondness.
Indigo: Trust, confidence.
Violet: Protection, nobility.
Ultraviolet: Commanding, dominating.
White: Bliss, perfection.
Grey: Apathy, indifference.
Black: Madness.
You color drifter blue
You reach out, caressing the Drifter's delicate aura, willing it to become blue. His aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were his own emotions.

The Drifter recalls fleeting harmonies of blue love and kinship. But again, as soon as you remove your influence, he drifts back towards grey. His mind refuses to coagulate its rhythm correctly.
You color drifter yellow
You reach out, caressing the Drifter's delicate aura, willing it to become yellow. His aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were his own emotions.

The Drifter trills unending queries of curious yellow. He falls back to grey. In despair, you push and pull again, more forcefully. But it does nothing. His mind is gone. Perhaps one day, with time, he can repair himself. But you can do nothing for him now, except grant him fleeting glimpses of memories and feelings he used to enjoy.
You sing to Drifter
His connection to this reality is too unstable to properly engage in harmony.
Color drifter green
You reach out, caressing the Drifter's delicate aura, willing it to become green. His aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were his own emotions.

The Drifter settles into contentment of enjoying green as happier memories dominate his mind. Then nothing. Grey. Even though the emotional connection is brief, feeling something -anything-
seems to bring Drifter some comfort.
Color drifter indigo
You reach out, caressing the Drifter's delicate aura, willing it to become indigo. His aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were his own emotions.

The Drifter blooms self-assured and trusting indigo. Then nothing. Grey. Even though the emotional connection is brief, feeling something -anything- seems to bring Drifter some comfort.
You examine Drifter
A Blind One, a human. Probably male. He breathes incoherent, oozes fleshy secretions, and his odd combination of connections prevents him from either Singing or Walking.

His dim grey aura disjointedly statics.
You go southeast
You emerge from your hiding spot.

A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The collection room is to the east, and the dredging room is to the west. The silenced room is to the southwest, and the open pipe room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.

Captain, Medic and the Mercy's drifting auras waft from the room to the east.
You go east
Exhibited are geologic readings and stolen samples. Centered in the room is a large metal table with your opened Cellarium displayed prominently.

The interstitial room is to the west.

The humans vibrate in a repetitious din of nervous red. They concern themselves with the presence of your opened Cellarium and uncomfortably search about the room, only barely missing your entrance. Only the Mercy explodes curious yellow and fascinates over the Cellarium. Captain finally breaks out of shock and feigns a shell of violet control, "You may be right. There may have been some sort of... chemical in that box that got released due to the pressure change."
You color Captain yellow
Captain is too strong to be influenced.

Medic percolates into a furious infrared, "Now hold on. I was expecting for Mercy to take a sample, do some spectroscopy, and maybe - maybe! find an unusual chemical peak. But this... this is beyond that. It contained... I don't know what. We have to do something."

You exalt! Yes, they must do something: return the Cellarium. This
is your chance. You push-sing of returning, of order, of empathy,
but as before, your pleas are met by Blindness. Communication must be established, but for now they probably still fear you, and will lash out in hostile infrared if they find you.
You color Medic yellow
Medic is too solid to offer you any influential opportunities.

Captain scales hesitation before holding on a conclusion, "I will call an all hands in the Messdeck, and figure out what we need to do from there. We already have one injured and way too many ill; I won't be responsible for more." Captain pushes out with Medic. Progress? Perhaps in this meeting they will decide to return your Cellarium. You notice the Mercy pause over your Cellarium, tracing its harmonic patterns. "What are you?" she whispers, enraptured. Her mind opens, connects for an instant. But then she snaps back to the physical and hastens to catch up with the other Blind Ones.
Go up
You slide yourself up the jagged floor, to the messdeck above, when suddenly, fear freezes you. From this staircase, with no hiding spots, you can hear the thick cluttered jumble of colors coming from several Blind Ones. There is no way that they would miss you. There must be another way up.
You go northwest
Rows upon rows of humans, unmoving on stacked shelves, deeply connected to the Universe, basking in its glory. A single Drifter sings silently with apathy and detachment.

The interstitial room is to the southeast.
Go west
Piles of cloth ooze uncountable emotions. One cold metal prison sits quietly, while a heated prison vibrates to a swelteringly fast pace.

The interstitial room is to the east, and a vent leads up.
Go up
You press yourself up through the vent with reliance on friction and clever weight-shifting.

The room smells equally of creation and destruction, of stealing the Order of others. It is both fascinating and disgusting. There are several strange machines in this room.

The consumptive area is to the east, a vent leads down, and a metal door with an overhead fan vent leads to the cold room to the south.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...pushed open from the inside..." Red. Fear.
You listen
Blue-green fondness and enjoyed creation spring from an acoustic well of burning fire and destruction.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...she decided it would be a good idea..." Infrared. Blame.
You go to the east
There are many Blind Ones there, and the passageway is bare. They would probably spot you, are you sure?
No
You decide against it.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...blaming each other..." Blue. Appealing.
Go south
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The physical chill frosts the air comforting blue, but any potential for enjoyment is drowned by a deafening cloud of black screams coming from the colder room. You hesitate to discover what horror could be making that disgusting collection of noises.

Overhead fan vents sit atop metal doors to the north and to the south.
You go south
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The madness in this room is soul-wrenching. How the Blind Ones could live with this atrocity is unfathomable. Fleshy chunks of the formerly-alive sit in frozen stacks, trapped in disunity. Your own situation is frustrating, but this is a true, horrific travesty. You need to help this, heal this, fix this: you can't idle while such suffering exists.

The cold room is through the overhead vent to the north.
Possess meat
That (the meat packages) cannot be possessed. It has no mind,
no real melody.
Color meat grey
The meat is too disjointed to color. It needs to be combined first.
You combine the meat
You smooth your body over the meat, attempting to conduct it into harmony, but each lump of flesh is too frozen in physical isolation to properly form covalent chords. You must bring warmth to the meat, and your body is not currently warm enough to do so.
Go north
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The physical chill frosts the air comforting blue, but a cloud of maddened black screams from the colder room to the south.

Overhead fan vents sit atop metal doors to the north and to the south.
Go north
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The room smells equally of creation and destruction. There are several strange machines in this room.

The consumptive area is to the east, a vent leads down, and a metal door with an overhead fan vent leads to the cold room to the south.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...brain-dead for all we know..." Violet. Concern.
You examine the machines
A heated structure and a metal box.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...entropic forces of the junction..." Yellow. Speculation.
You look at the heated structure
Simmering in furious detachment, the device concentrates heat.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...absolutely nothing wrong..." Ultraviolet. Denying.
You enter the heated structure
You attempt to enter the device, but the heat it contains threatens to evaporate your body, so you content to sit nearby. You glow and tumble in the newfound warmth.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...defend ourselves..."Violet. Reactive.
You examine the fan
It churns in momentary bursts of apathetic haste, before entering long pauses. It is easy for your lithe body to slip through with proper timing.

You hear glimpses of color from the adjoining room, "...infection or radiation..." Yellow. Inferring.
You go south
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The madness in this room is soul-wrenching. How the Blind Ones could live with this atrocity is unfathomable. Fleshy chunks of the formerly-alive sit in frozen stacks, trapped in disunity. Your own situation is frustrating, but this is a true, horrific travesty.

The cold room is through the overhead vent to the north.
You combine the meat
You smooth your body over the meat packages, physically and metaphysically conducting unity and understanding and cohesion. As you weave together the previously disparate notes, the black gives way to confusion, then curiosity, and then slowly to joy and happiness at its newfound Song. The Newsong greenly bubbles into gleeful thankfulness.

The Newsong plays with its new aura and body in wonderment and joy.
Possess newsong
You push your aura into the Newsong, who relieves in happiness and bliss at the bond. You surprise at the sensation: your bodies remain divorced, but your minds move in perfect synch. You tug curiously at its simplistic flesh-structures, feeling the creature's immsense weight. You can make it do whatever you want.

The Newsong's body stiffens noticeably in the cold. It needs warmth.
Go north
You shove the Newsong's body against the freezer door, barreling into the next room. It takes a moment to collect itself, before locking into understanding.

It wrests control, and independently gallops to its own freedom, opening the cold door, bursting out into the middle of the human congregation. They respond in shredding, blackened oranges and reds. One Blind One wails in aberrant disgust and pushes things at the Newsong; another grabs a violet cylinder and expels its contents - gaseous carbon dioxide - at the Newsong. The shock severs your tenuous connection completely. The Newsong gallops on, indignant, to bask in the warmth of the nearby star. As the doors slowly swing back shut, the Newsong sings for you of freedom, of joy, of radiance before leaving to compose itself a new life.
You color Newsong blue
You are synced in blissful unity with this Blind One. Her color can be nothing but pure white while you continue to control her.

The Newsong hardens quickly. You need to get it out.
You go to the north
You squeeze through a fan vent, enjoying the sensation of your ooze enveloping cold metal.

The room smells equally of creation and destruction. There are several strange machines in this room.

The consumptive area is to the east, a vent leads down, and a metal door with an overhead fan vent leads to the cold room to the south.

As for the Blind Ones, you can feel them wax panic and wane intellect as they scatter themselves about the ship in a chittering frenzy. You were right to be wary of their responses, but perhaps you can find a way to message them in a way that will not trigger their primitive, hostile brain-offal reactions. There must be some way to make them receptive.
Go east
There are glimpses of camaraderie swirled with other, pettier emotions of gossip and intrigue. Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The burning room is to the west, and the bottom level of the outside is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.
You go up
You rely on friction to press yourself up the vent.

Rigidity. Grey walls and sterile, dead water. This room is bare, save for two human devices.

The middle level of the outside is to the south, a pass-through cabinet leads to the southwest, while a vent leads both up and down.

Here, the unwell Captain wracks her body in shivering contortions of a fear-induced sickness. A new Blind One, an Assister, attempts to comfort her with a shield of blue, but Captain is too far gone. You might be able to help, though.
You color Captain green
You reach out, caressing Captain's delicate aura, willing it to become green. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Captain grasps at wisps of green and is able to recombine in violet strength and fortitude. Her wretchings cease, and she turns to the Assister, "We need to... get our shit... together and stop whatever is going on. We need to..." Captain is drawn into one last involuntary purge then takes a moment to collect her colors.
You examine Assister
A Blind One. Might be female.

Her light red aura screws tightly.

The Assister senses her opening for demands, "You-- We can't go on like this. Please, let me get rid of it. I can launch the sub and return it right where it was. Then whatever it is will leave us alone." They are finally doing exactly what you need.
You look at your surroundings
Rigidity. Grey walls and sterile, dead water. This room is bare, save for two human devices.

The middle level of the outside is to the south, a pass-through cabinet leads to the southwest, while a vent leads both up and down.

Assister objects in strong indigo with tinges of indignant infrareds, "I think we brought a relic aboard: alien, or local, or cursed, or something. We need to return it where it was or else we'll all be fucked even worse." Captain steadfasts incredulous, "It's leaking... something. And we definitely don't have time for a dive, just to what - put it back neatly? We need to ditch it and get to shore." You slosh in frustration: soon they will call for help, and then you will never be able to stop them from doing whatever they want to you or your Cellarium. You need to get to the radio before they do.
You go upward
You rely on friction to press yourself up the vent.

The dead brain of the vessel, all the ship's information that the Blind Ones can't see or hear themselves is chewed and spit out here. Unblinking sonar sensors, a large compass, a glowing marked table, the vessel's controls, and, most prominently, the mechanical voice-box all give the Blind One a shadow-cave-illusion sense of control.

A small deck is to the south, and a vent leads down.
You look athe voice-box
A whole system to artificially transcribe their garish music and rebroadcast it both throughout the ship and beyond to others at a distance. The device has a meshed metal membrane to hear and a coiled magnetic tape to remember.
You entethe voice-box
You start to ooze through the meshed membrane, but don't notice any way to influence the radio from inside there. You push back out instead.
You pull the magnetic tape
Nothing obvious happens.
You wipe the tape
You push-pull-sing to the tape, but it only weakly responds to your demands. As you play with the wound reel inside of your body, you realize what is influencing it - slight variations in your ionic makeup. The tape only responds to magnetic influences.
You look around
Unblinking sonar sensors, a large compass, a glowing marked table, the vessel's controls, and, most prominently, the mechanical voice-box all give the Blind One a shadow-cave-illusion sense of control.

A small deck is to the south, and a vent leads down.
You examine the compass
A strong magnetic field emanates from a central globe.
You enter compass
You press your body up against the magnetic influence of the orb, and tingle as your ions align uniformly. You have to pulse your body in difficult ways to maintain the segregation of the separate charges - you cannot maintain this field for very long.
You wipe the tape
Wielding the magnetic charges, you precisely tweak, add and multiply a copy to the layout of the wound tape. You exalt in temporary ecstasy as your mind traces over the universal pattern of the infinite Ancients. Then you feel a stabbing chaos: your Cellarium is being moved. It must be saved.
Go downwards
You slide down the vent, slowly tumbling over yourself.

Rigidity. Grey walls and sterile, dead water. This room is bare, save for two human devices.

The middle level of the outside is to the south, a pass-through cabinet leads to the southwest, while a vent leads both up and down.
Go downwards
You slide down the vent, slowly tumbling over yourself.

Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The burning room is to the west, and the bottom level of the outside is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.
You go northeast
Rows upon rows of humans, unmoving on stacked shelves, deeply connected to the Universe, basking in its glory.

The interstitial room is to the southwest.
Go up
Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The burning room is to the west, and the bottom level of the outside is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.
Go south
Outside, Bottom
Dark clouds above are dissipating, the remnants of a terrible storm. The ocean gusts are overwhelming with both their strength and their overabundance of emotion.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The consumptive area is to the north, the small unexplored room is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium rests here.
You go east
The creatures' desire for connecting to the Universe manifests in this macabre study station of sequestered deck. A foray into understand the bliss they will never see themselves. A sample of part of your body is displayed with the freshly-inked label "Internal Crystal Scraping".

The bottom level of the outside is back to the west.
You examine the sample
Small flecks of your body that were stuck to the inside of your Cellarium. They must have been studying you more than you realize.
Go west
Outside, Bottom
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The consumptive area is to the north, the singing room is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium rests here.
You go upwards
Outside, Middle
Dark clouds above are dissipating, the remnants of a terrible storm. The ocean gusts are overwhelming with both their strength and their overabundance of emotion. This small deck is dominated by smaller vessels.

The smaller vessels are to the south, the closed sturdy hatch is to the east, the unyielding hatch is to the west, the secretion room is to the north, and a set of stairs leads up and down.

The Mercy has heard the majesty of the Universe. She is awe-struck - she knows and sings and you can feel her willingness to help. But her mind over-immersed, in levels that her physical body could not contain: it wilts from boundary-exceeding heterostasis. Assister abandons the Cellarium, blustering caring forte for the Mercy. But Assister's efforts are having no effect, and you know: The Mercy needs the real expert. But Medic has locked herself away and not coming out. Intolerable.
You examine Mercy
A Blind One. Possibly a female? She offers herself as yours to control.

Her light white aura radiates bliss.

The Mercy's fading body. The Assister desperately attempting to revive her. Her mind cracks.
You examine Medic
You can faintly feel a vague, black outline of Medic.

Assister attempts to revive the Mercy, holding back chords of dismay and helplessness.
Color medic violet
You reach out to color the Medic from outside, and nearly succeed, but it is too difficult with her in the sick bay.

Assister touches - forcefully - the Mercy with frantic calls to the closed hatch.
Go east
(first opening the captain's hatch)
The hatch is too large for you to move. It will have to stay closed.

Assister focuses her attention on the hatch, attempting to open it. But she cannot.
You go to the west
(first opening the unknown room hatch)
It is much too heavy for you to open.

Assister doubles her efforts to assist the Mercy, but dissolves in uselessness as none of her calls have any effect.
Go north
Rigidity. Grey walls and sterile, dead water. This room is bare, save for two human devices.

The middle level of the outside is to the south, a pass-through cabinet leads to the southwest, while a vent leads both up and down.
You go southwest
You slowly ooze through small cracks in the cabinet into the unyielding hatch.

Anxiety sickens the lymphatic flow of this room.

The middle level of the outside is to the east, and the secretion room is through a cabinet to the northeast.

From the closed hatch to the outside, you sense the Mercy's body faint and fading, as well as Assister pleading for Medic's help. But here, stagnating, Medic swirls onto herself in fright and indifference, humming a barricade against any influence or Song. Engineer throbs frustrated infrared, unable to move her damaged meat-parts.
Color medic violet
Medic is too solid to offer you any influential opportunities.

Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... can't help her, won't help her, they will just get us anyway, it's useless to go out there..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Color engineer indigo
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become indigo. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Engineer attempts to get up, to force Medic to aid the sickening Mercy, but pain causes her to lose her self-resolve too quickly. You would not make that mistake. Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... can't help her, won't help her, they will just get us anyway, it's useless to go out there..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
You combine engineer
You're having trouble combining that (Engineer) into a better
state.

Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... a trick a trick they just want me to go out there and then they will get me, I can't let them get me..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Color engineer indigo
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become indigo. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Engineer attempts to get up, to force Medic to aid the sickening Mercy, but pain causes her to lose her self-resolve too quickly. You would not make that mistake. Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... flare guns are useless are they idiots I can't believe that they..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Sing
You fold. The music is faint and the song warms you, but you know you cannot truly Sing without being in your Cellarium at the proper place.

Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... I know how these kinds of things end, I won't let it happen..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Color engineer infrared
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become infrared. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... a trick a trick they just want me to go out there and then they will get me, I can't let them get me..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Color engineer red
You reach out, caressing Engineer's delicate aura, willing it to become red. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Engineer tears over herself in fury at Medic's indifference, at her own inability to affect anything. She blames herself, feels a failure. She knows she can't force Medic to help by herself, that she needs assistance. Medic swirls in fright, babbling a self-protecting barricade, "... rescue boats and then leave maybe the life boat but can't be sure..." The damaged Engineer is unable to Blind-Sing or Walk, but her aura screams in frustration. She wants to do something, anything, to force Medic into action.
Control engineer
Out of frustration, Engineer -- the Rosa -- gives you control willingly. As your connnection strengthens, you absorb ambient knowledge about their world, about this place. Slowly, you orient yourself to the flesh's dizzying hum of salt channels, sugar surges, and gas exchanges. At first, you try pulling each limb individually as with the Newsong, but quickly find an easier time by simply puppeting the conductive cells in the spine. You move the body. Its neurons scream of pain from the skin and deeper tissues. You ignore it. You stand the Rosa upright. Medic has not yet noticed you.
You talk to Medic
The Rosa-body is too injured to speak anything but guttural percussions. This is still enough to get the Medic's attention, "Oh god, please don't, I won't... Your bandages, please I will help, just don't hurt me." Medic bursts open the hatch, and you follow to ensure compliance. Medic writhes under the additional dagger-furying curses of Assister. Goaded into helping, Medic touches the Mercy in an intricate breath-sharing dance that restores her body. Rosa's body collapses out of your control, inoperative, just as the Mercy's body gasps into life. Medic glances over, and eye-snares you. Medic tumbles black: forward and back, then expands and contracts. Medic whispers to herself of escape as she flees to the quarterdeck.

"Thank you, Sarah," the Mercy buzzes to the long-absconded Medic. There is a distinct change in her timbre: bemusement and detachment towards her old world. She notices your presence, and pretends to address Assister, again in the same tone, "I'm feeling much better, Wenig, and I think that I will do some paperwork. In the lab!" Assister shocks incredulous, but obligates the Rosa with assistance as the Mercy heads down.
Go downwards
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The messdeck is to the north, the wet lab is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium rests here.
You go to the east
The Mercy glows as you enter her presence. Her mind still swims with bliss, and her Song is perfectly tuned. "Thank you. I... everything is so beautiful now," she moves her body and picks you up, "I know what you want - to return," you can feel her flesh react where it touches you, "I want to help you, get you back to your home," the flesh now oozes and ashes, "as thanks for the magnificence that you have granted me," her flesh now scalds acidic, but the Mercy continues, "what should I do for you first?"
You put you in Cellarium
The Mercy enjoys your influence, but your body continues to damage her.

The Mercy continues to hold you, completely enraptured, but your body damages her physical. Your alkaline composition eats through her flesh, and your aqueous body sifts through the slits between her finger bones. The Mercy is too connected to the Song to immediately mind, but soon she cries mangled regret, and without her ability to help, you find yourself unable to escape. After Captain captures you, Assister is roused into action. They transport you ashore, where your peace is constantly interrupted by some new Blind Ones tapping at you with scientific grey instruments. One day, in a flurry of bright green excitement, the Blind Ones shove a permanent rod into your body. Then they leave you alone to fold. You are never again interrupted, but the rod always is there, a nagging splinter preventing you from fully embracing the bliss of the Universe. But the Song is still lovely, and you join in as best you can. Off-white. Happiness.
You drop you
You drop from the Mercy as she continues, oblivious, "Listen, I know what to do. We'll use the sub. But first, please, help me fix Ruvid. He's the uh, the Drifter. I heard him, when I was called. He's split. But I saw how we could fix him." You color her mind in agreeable blue to signal accepting the terms. She brightens, then waits patiently, eager to follow you and your every command.
You go to the west
Loading Deck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The messdeck is to the north, the wet lab is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium rests here.

The Mercy detachedly notices her hands, "Oh, how careless of me. It all feels so... silly." She feels the pain, but distantly.
Go north
Messdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The galley is to the west, and the loading deck is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.

You toy with controlling the Mercy's body. Your chords block together, as her movements and emotions perfectly follow your direction.
Go downwards
Lower Passageway (Controlling Mercy)
A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The survey storage is to the east, and the laundry room is to the west. The engine room is to the southwest, and the open boiler room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.

In a brief, rebellious solo, she contemplates release, but then rapidly stabilizes into her final bliss, complacent in her unity.
Go northeast
Berthing, Starboard (Controlling Mercy)
Rows upon rows of humans, unmoving on stacked shelves, deeply connected to the Universe, basking in its glory.

The lower passageway is to the southwest.
You go to the north-west
Berthing, Port (Controlling Mercy)
Rows upon rows of humans, unmoving on stacked shelves, deeply connected to the Universe, basking in its glory. A single Drifter sings silently with apathy and detachment.

The lower passageway is to the southeast.

The Mercy push-sings to the Drifter. She calls out to him, reaches through the physical and pulls at his severed ties, coloring them into this world. The Mercy sings for your assistance: she needs you to finish connecting him.
You connect drifter
You sing of unity, cohesion and singlehood. His connections ribbon into a strange modal function, looping unnecessarily back and forth between the physical and the other. Slowly, it resumes its baseline level of dim awareness. He sees the Mercy, and understands his return. The Mercy bubbles satisfied, waiting for his response.
You look at Drifter
A Blind One, a human. Probably male. His dim grey aura disjointedly statics.

Drifter groggs his mind into vengeful purpose, "You bitch!" he lurches at the Mercy, "That thing'll kill us!" The Mercy lags disbelief as he heavily commands, "I won't let it. I won't let you - !"
Drifter presses infrared destruction against the Mercy's neck. The Mercy sings for your help.
You color drifter blue
You reach out, caressing Drifter's delicate aura, willing it to become blue. His aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were his own emotions.

Drifter surges with blue memories of the Mercy; his grip falters and he falls back. The Mercy grabs a nearby human object and pushes it against Drifter multiple times in a way that damages, then disconnects his ties and cohesion.

The Mercy quivers disbelieving orange, "We can't... why. I don't..." but she solaces in the Song's knowledge, "He was wrong. He was Blind. We should've never tried." She steadies. Indigo. Assurance.
She reaches out for you, and begs you to control her once more.
You go southeast
The Mercy crumples darkness at you leaving her, but consoles herself that you must have a reason.

A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The survey storage is to the east, and the laundry room is to the west. The engine room is to the southwest, and the open boiler room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.
Possess Mercy
You take control of the Mercy. You both revel in the bliss of perfect harmonic unity.
You go southeast
Lower Passageway (Controlling Mercy)
A long metallic hallway that spans the length of the vessel.

The drifting auras of humans call from the to the northwest and to the northeast. The survey storage is to the east, and the laundry room is to the west. The engine room is to the southwest, and the open boiler room is to the southeast. A set of stairs leads up to the rest of the ship.

Mercy straightens herself into resolve, "We'll take the sub. Wenig, the Assister, she'll help." You shudder unease. What if she
resists as well? Mercy contemplates on your concern.
Go upwards
Messdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The galley is to the west, and the loading deck is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.

"I won't mention you; I'll keep her in the dark. She just wants things back to normal." Mercy finally solidifies white again, and you realize with relief that your plan to be returned is going to be realized.
You go south
Loading Deck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The messdeck is to the north, the wet lab is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium rests here.
Go upward
Quarterdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything. This small deck is dominated by smaller vessels.

The life boats are to the south, the captain's quarters are to the east, the sick bay is to the west, the lavatory is to the north, and a set of stairs leads up and down.

The Mercy fights off orange vibrations as she whispers to you, "Well, I guess I should knock."
You knock
(the sick bay hatch)
"Who... Mercy? I'm not opening this - Rosa's hurt bad, and I just... I need to protect her." Violet smoothly wafts from the other side of the door. The Mercy entreats Assister ethereal blue, "Listen, Wenig, we need to return the cube," the Mercy soothes sweetly, "It'll all be better if we just return it. But we need you to do it. You're the expert."

"Why all of a sudden... oh God, you're a monster, aren't you? That's what's wrong with your voice. You're not the real Mercy, just some shape-shifter. You just want to get in here - to get us," Assister plucks in miserable orange. The Mercy trills silent surprise, she looks to you for help, for guidance. How can she convince Assister?
You color Assister blue
You reach out to color the Assister from outside, and nearly succeed, but it is too difficult from this distance.

Assister continues to argue belligerent, "Where is the real Mercy? Is she... is she dead?" You help the Mercy respond, "I'm real, don't let your fear control you. You're not being logical."
You open the door
(the sick bay hatch)
You push the Mercy to open the hatch. Her muscles constrict, her tendons strain, but it is no use: the hatch is closed from inside.

Assister disagrees, "Why do you want this?" You help the Mercy respond, "You were right before, when you said we should return it. That's all I want."
You release Mercy
You sing of separation, of independence. Mercy regains majority control of her own body.

Freed from your musically perfect direction, faults return to the Mercy's voice as she pleads with Assister, "Please, Wenig, I know scary things are going on, but I really think working together is the way to put things right. Please, I mean, just come out and help me prepare the stupid sub." Assister hesitates, hears the truth, hears the Mercy's true voice, she falters, she wants to believe, but she continues to stall, "I... I'm not sure." The Mercy elates ovoid green at the progress.
Wait
Time passes.

The Mercy wheedles Assister, who half-rebuffs in contemplation, "Please, don't rush me on this."
You color assister indigo
You reach out to color the Assister from outside, and nearly succeed, but it is too difficult from this distance.

The Mercy wheedles Assister, who half-rebuffs in contemplation, "Let me think, just let me think."
Go north
The Mercy crumples darkness at you leaving her, but consoles herself that you must have a reason.

Rigidity. Grey walls and sterile, dead water. This room is bare, save for two human devices.

The quarterdeck is to the south, a pass-through cabinet leads to the southwest, while a vent leads both up and down.
You go southwest
You slowly ooze through small cracks in the cabinet into the sick bay.

Anxiety sickens this room.

The quarterdeck is to the east, and the lavatory is through a cabinet to the northeast.

Assister wrings uncertainty. She wants so desperately to trust the Mercy. Rosa drifts in unconsciousness.
You color assister indigo
You reach out, caressing Assister's delicate aura, willing it to become indigo. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.

Assister settles indigo trusting and relieved. She opens the hatch, embraces the Mercy in a muddled mess of bare aura. The Mercy straightens and strengthens her. Assister echoes herself, "I thought, I thought you were, I thought it was... what happened to your hands?!" But the Mercy reassures her, "Oh don't worry about me. Listen, I can understand why you were scared, and I don't blame you..." her dulcet notes trail off as they both move towards the loading deck.
You go to the east
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything. This small deck is dominated by smaller vessels.

The life boats are to the south, the captain's quarters are to the east, the sick bay is to the west, the lavatory is to the north, and a set of stairs leads up and down.

Now that the Assister has left, you can hear another voice, very faint, coming from the captain's quarters. You just barely hear snatches, and only when you strain to listen.
You listen to the voice
You can faintly hear the Captain's tumultuous self-fight for control of her own colors, "...didn't deserve entrance..."
You look at Captain
You can faintly hear the Captain's tumultuous self-fight for control of her own colors, "...a disappointment..."
You color Captain yellow
Captain is too solid in her turmoil to be colored.
You go upward
Dark clouds above are dissipating, the remnants of a terrible storm. The ocean gusts are overwhelming with both their strength and their overabundance of emotion.

The pilot house is to the north, and a set of stairs leads down.
Go north
Unblinking sonar sensors, a large compass, a glowing marked table, the vessel's controls, and the broken voice-box clutter the room.

A small deck is to the south, and a vent leads down.
Go east
(first opening the captain's hatch)
The hatch is too large for you to move. It will have to stay closed.
Go down
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

A metallic vesicle is secured at the south end of the deck. The messdeck is to the north, the wet lab is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your Cellarium sits open in the sub's basket.

Assister and the Mercy touch-correct various parts of the exterior of the submersible. They've already moved your Cellarium to the basket, making sure to leave it open. The Mercy noticeably brightens in ecstatic relief as you come near. She addresses Assister, "Wenig, let's do the pre-launch check of the internal controls." Assister broadens in agreeable blues and greens as they climb together into the submersible.
You enter Cellarium
A white, crystalline Ancient structure that perfectly houses you.

You can hear partially through your connection with the Mercy. She senses your placement, and rolls white in shared bliss as she climbs out of the sub. The Mercy closes the lid above you, radiating,
You'll be home soon, don't worry. You stroke her aura as
Assister re-emerges. Assister directs the Mercy back inside, as Assister herself remains outside to continue the more demanding preparations. Soon, you will be home. You feel anxious to once again Sing.
Sing
You immerse, content in the Song's pattern. Spread, subduct, spread, subduct. The Universe joins, but in a way that feels improper. Then, you recognize why: the element echoing you is not earth, but air. And air is too fragile to support such a Song as yours. It tears itself into powerfully fast columns and drafts. Assister looks on in fright as a heating, swirling, impossible storm forms overhead, threatening unending destruction. You stop. It slows. Then you notice the other tempest.

In a lashing mess of reds, oranges, and infrareds, Captain writhes out determined from the vessel proper. She screams of endings, of finality. You molt in fear: the Mercy needs you.
You color Captain blue
Captain is too strong in her current colors, there is no way that she could be influenced, but the Mercy would gladly offer herself to you.

Captain takes advantage of Mercy and Assister's pre-occupation. She launches a flaring, gibbering ball at Assister, who falls in a confused, black tangle. Captain similarly dispatches Mercy when she comes out. Captain drags your Cellarium out and over the side of the ship. You float down and land far from your appointed place. You Sing, and re-join the Universe, but slightly off-key. You settle in, reshaping the seafloor so that eventually, after many millennia, you will once again enjoy perfect harmony.
Possess Mercy
The distance makes it difficult, but you both stretch, and the shared need strengthens your bond. You take a moment to acclimate to her location...

DSV-2 (Controlling Mercy)
The Mercy scrambles panicked to the control panel, skimming it over: A set of searchlight buttons, arm manipulator levers, a propeller throttle, and an emergency surface switch.

Captain advances slowly, wrathfully. Assister remains oblivious to the distant Captain.
You look at the controls
A set of searchlight buttons, arm manipulator levers, a propeller throttle, and an emergency surface switch.
You look at the levers
Multiple levers used to dynamically control the movement of the exterior manipulator arms.
You turn on the throttle
The propellers whorl furiously outside, but only succeed in displacing air. Captain continues, undaunted.

Without your guidance, Mercy loses her nerve. Captain overpowers her, and triumphs over your captured form, and waits for other Blind Ones to rescue her. They transport you ashore, where your peace is constantly interrupted by some new Blind Ones tapping at you with scientific grey instruments. One day, in a flurry of bright green excitement, the Blind Ones shove a permanent rod into your body. Then they leave you alone to fold. You are never again interrupted, but the rod always is there, a nagging splinter preventing you from fully embracing the bliss of the Universe. But the Song is still lovely, and you join in as best you can. Off-white. Happiness.
You control Mercy
The Mercy feels lost and frightened. You will need to go outside to connect with her.
You color Captain yellow
Captain is too strong in her current colors, there is no way that she could be influenced, but the Mercy would gladly offer herself to you.

Without your guidance, Mercy loses her nerve. Captain overpowers her, and triumphs over your captured form, and waits for other Blind Ones to rescue her. They transport you ashore, where your peace is constantly interrupted by some new Blind Ones tapping at you with scientific grey instruments. One day, in a flurry of bright green excitement, the Blind Ones shove a permanent rod into your body. Then they leave you alone to fold. You are never again interrupted, but the rod always is there, a nagging splinter preventing you from fully embracing the bliss of the Universe. But the Song is still lovely, and you join in as best you can. Off-white. Happiness.
You kill Captain
Captain is too distant to do anything meaningful.

Without your guidance, Mercy loses her nerve. Captain overpowers her, and triumphs over your captured form, and waits for other Blind Ones to rescue her. They transport you ashore, where your peace is constantly interrupted by some new Blind Ones tapping at you with scientific grey instruments. One day, in a flurry of bright green excitement, the Blind Ones shove a permanent rod into your body. Then they leave you alone to fold. You are never again interrupted, but the rod always is there, a nagging splinter preventing you from fully embracing the bliss of the Universe. But the Song is still lovely, and you join in as best you can. Off-white. Happiness.
Possess Mercy
You're already controlling her, but you can always release her, if you desire.

Without your guidance, Mercy loses her nerve. Captain overpowers her, and triumphs over your captured form, and waits for other Blind Ones to rescue her. They transport you ashore, where your peace is constantly interrupted by some new Blind Ones tapping at you with scientific grey instruments. One day, in a flurry of bright green excitement, the Blind Ones shove a permanent rod into your body. Then they leave you alone to fold. You are never again interrupted, but the rod always is there, a nagging splinter preventing you from fully embracing the bliss of the Universe. But the Song is still lovely, and you join in as best you can. Off-white. Happiness.
You examine the boat
The structure that holds you and all their things.
You control Mercy
You take control of the Mercy. You both revel in the bliss of perfect harmonic unity.
You go upward
Quarterdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything. This small deck is dominated by smaller vessels.

The life boats are to the south, the captain's quarters are to the east, the sick bay is to the west, the lavatory is to the north, and a set of stairs leads up and down.
You go upwards
Forecastle Deck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds above are dissipating, the remnants of a terrible storm. The ocean gusts are overwhelming with both their strength and their overabundance of emotion.

The pilot house is to the north, and a set of stairs leads down.
You go north
Pilot House (Controlling Mercy)
Unblinking sonar sensors, a large compass, a glowing marked table, the vessel's controls, and the broken voice-box clutter the room.

A small deck is to the south, and a vent leads down.
You look at table
You can't quite make out the patterns, but you can see some Blind language written on it: "Epicenter". The rest is a garble of
what you guess to be human names. The Mercy happily interprets for you, "We're just off the coast, at the Chile Triple Junction." She points out various other features of the map, but its shorthand depictions are both uninteresting and difficult to follow.
You look at the controls
A complex system of steering controls that are way beyond you. The Mercy is totally lost as well, "I was a researcher: I never used these."
You go to the south
Forecastle Deck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

The pilot house is to the north, and a set of stairs leads down.
Go east
Captain's Quarters (Controlling Mercy)
Responsibility concaves the floor, and shaming ghosts stagnate the air. The human-furnitures fight to remain upright in all the weight.

The quarterdeck is to the west.
You examine the furniture
A bunk and a desk seem somewhat interesting. The Mercy looks about the room with you, her gaze lingering on the desk.
You examine desk
A piece of human-furniture with a paper.
You examine paper
In human-writing it describes Captain's last report:

We are in need of engine repairs, and I take full responsibility for this delay not allowing us to continue our research duties as quickly as possible. We are now waiting for repairs to complete. In an unrelated incident, we took a standard geological sample from the epicenter, but it seems to be perhaps poisonous, as some of the crew bunked closest to it have reported feeling unwell. I am taking no chances and am ensuring its disposal.

Mercy surprises at the note's whitewashed contents, "A few months ago, well, Eliza knew this astronaut that got blacklisted as... crazy for seeing an 'alien' on the moon." The Mercy halts, then braves, "Are there Ancients on the moon?"
Yes
You tell her of the other Ancients there, how they stopped singing long ago. You had assumed they were completely silenced, but it appears not. The Mercy overjoys at this new knowledge.
Look around
Captain's Quarters (Controlling Mercy)
Responsibility concaves heavily in this room, dragging everything down. The human-furnitures fight to remain upright in all the weight.

The quarterdeck is to the west.
You look at the bunk
The single slotted bed is drenched in Captain's fading colors. She must have been turning her mind to vindictive madness. The Mercy seems uninterested in it.
You go west
Quarterdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything. This small deck is dominated by smaller vessels.

The life boats are to the south, the captain's quarters are to the east, the sick bay is to the west, the lavatory is to the north, and a set of stairs leads up and down.
Go downwards
Loading Deck (Controlling Mercy)
Dark clouds dissipate above, while the wind pushes and pulls everything.

Two silenced bodies and the diving vessel splay across the deck; the vessel's interior rests slightly more southern than its undercarriage.

The messdeck is to the north, the wet lab is sectioned off to the east, and a set of stairs lead up. Your open Cellarium rests here.
You take Cellarium
The Mercy tries to pick it up, but she is not strong enough, and her hands are damaged. She fails. She flexes reassured white, "I could still push it somewhere, if you wanted me to move it," she offers, eager to please you.
You go to the southwest
Mercy frets a crack of light red in her otherwise symmetrical white orb, "Letting you sink inside your Cellarium will be fine, but the current: you'll drift away from where we want you to land." You tap into the harmonic patterns of the earth's magnetism, and sense the direction of your home: southwest.
You go southwest
Mercy turns her concerns inward, more cracks forming "And what of me? I won't have anything when you go. I can't go back to them, they'd never understand, never compare to this." You tap into the harmonic patterns of the earth's magnetism, and sense the direction of your home: southwest.
You go to the southwest
Mercy glows steadily again,"No matter what happens to me, I'll just be happy knowing I did the right thing. That I helped you." You tap into the harmonic patterns of the earth's magnetism, and sense the direction of your home: south.
Go south
You arrive. You can feel the harmonics of your guiding influence that have shaped the seafloor far below into the infinitely echoing pattern of spreading and subducting. You are so close to being home again, you quiver. Mercy lingers, then turns to you. Knowing the cost, she reaches out to stroke you - to feel you - one last time.
Wait
Time passes.

Mercy tightens closer to you as she senses your excitement. She vibrates in anticipation for your happiness.
You wait
Time passes.

Mercy waits for your command.
You enter Cellarium
You crawl into the Cellarium and signal to Mercy your intent. She understands, "I... I will miss you. Please, don't ever forget me. You've given me meaning. You've given me everything." She pulls your Cellarium up, then darkens in absolute sadness at the coming separation, Please, don't leave me here. she despairs as she
pushes it over.

For one last moment as your blissful tomb drifts downward, you connect with the Mercy in perfect unison, and you feel her dread over what is to come: the emptiness, the disconnection, the unfeeling tedium. She wants so desperately to go down with you.
You wait a while
Time passes.

Your Cellarium lands, not too terribly far from its original home. It takes you centuries, but you eventually manage to Sing and re-shape the sea floor into the proper harmonics. And when you do, the bliss is perfection, unending. White. Happiness.
Possess Mercy
You're already controlling her, but you can always release her, if you desire.

Mercy waits for your command.
You release Mercy
You sing of separation, of independence. Mercy regains majority control of her own body.

Mercy waits for your command.
You enter Cellarium
The Mercy has trouble understanding your directions, and suggests that she would have an easier time if you were controlling her.

The Mercy excites glistening white at being so close to your home.

Mercy waits for your command.
You put Mercy in Cellarium
(first taking Mercy)

You take control of the Mercy. You both revel in the bliss of perfect harmonic unity.

Mercy waits for your command.
You put Mercy in Cellarium
(first taking Mercy)

You're already controlling her, but you can always release her, if you desire.

Mercy waits for your command.
You jump overboard
You crawl into the Cellarium and signal to Mercy your intent. She understands, "I... I will miss you. Please, don't ever forget me. You've given me meaning. You've given me everything." She pulls your Cellarium up, then darkens in absolute sadness at the coming separation, Please, don't leave me here. she despairs as she
pushes it over.

For one last moment as your blissful tomb drifts downward, you connect with the Mercy in perfect unison, and you feel her dread over what is to come: the emptiness, the disconnection, the unfeeling tedium. She wants so desperately to go down with you.
You jump
The Mercy dives after you, grasping firmly to your Cellarium. Her body cells scream for oxygen, and the pressure concaves her delicate frame. So she abandons it, entering into the Song instead. The body maintains its desperate grasp on your Cellarium, and you puppet it in a way that pushes your Cellarium exactly back to the infinite junction. The connection of this place overwhelms you, and you Sing unending. Mercy sings with you, an eternally blissful duet. White.
Perfection.
Design
Design notes and author's website at LMDadventures.blogspot.com/2013/07/coloratura.html
Epilogue
You shift against the helicopter straps uncomfortably. This is the middle of the third refueling, and Chilean officials are starting to lean hard on SAR to find the missing research ship. But two mysterious storms battered the coast, lending to suspicious whispers. They're saying that not even Saint Anthony's help can foil this devil's work.

You haven't give up however, and you take advantage of Amaro dipping into a turn to resume searching the sea.
You examine the sea
Nothing but open, empty sea.
About yourself
Nothing but open, empty sea....
Nothing but open, empty sea.......
Nothing but open, empty sea.......... but wait, you do see something! A dark speck, in the distance. Amaro seems to notice it at the same time. "Fantastic! Can you radio dispatch?" Amaro exclaims, "I'm going in for the approach."
You examine the speck
The dark speck is too distant to be properly visible.

Annoyed, Amaro makes the call for you as he flies towards his destination. The shape starts to coalesce, but you still can't quite make it out. The radio crackles in reply, "Roger that. Hope you've found it!"
About yourself
Sweaty, tired, and sore from sitting in the rescue helicopter all day.

The helicopter approaches the speck, and its shape slowly clears into a life boat. Your mind reels as Amaro relays the details. How many survivors? Will any be critical? The radio statics in anxiously, "...keep on reporting."
About yourself
Sweaty, tired, and sore from sitting in the rescue helicopter all day.

By now you are nearly on top of the life boat, but things do not seem promising. There are no distress signals, no flares, no reflecting glint: no signs of life. The radio seems to echo your unease, "Is it abandoned? Advising caution."
You look at the boat
It's much clearer now: a small lifeboat. You can't see anyone aboard, though, and the fact that they haven't sent off any distress signals or flares is worrying.

Amaro brings the helicopter to a hover over the life boat, and you can see a single person inside the boat, lying down. Amaro gestures to you that his position is stable and releases the ladder. The radio acknowledges your situation as a small emergency, but wants to focus on finding more survivors. "Just in case, sending backup your way, miss. Let's save somebody."
Go downwards
You climb down the ladder and drop down into the boat. You signal to Amaro to land, and he keeps the blades running nearby. There is only one woman here, curled up on her side. You can see that she wears the colors of a Corpsman, and you grimly appreciate the irony of one medic saving another.
You look at the woman
Breathing lightly, she stares ahead as if transfixed or not fully here. You notice that she's clutching at a tape in her hands.
You examine the tape
The kind of magnetic tape still used in vessel radio system logs. It probably has important clues or information.
You take the tape
You pull the tape from her hands. She immediately rouses from her state of shock and grabs at you, pulls you closer, and speaks past you in what you recognize as English, "Believe me! It was... it was..." but she trails off. 'Horrible?' You internally punctuate,
before she does finish her thought after all, "Beautiful." Then she collapses.

No! you scream. But you can revive her, you can save her.
You revive woman
You push against her chest with rapid, strong heaves. She does not respond. You do not relent. More time passes, and the physical exertion is catching up to you, but there is still no pulse. Do you continue?
Yes
You continue pushing against her chest and feel at least one rib crack and give way - not uncommon. But she still does not respond. You feel your body slowing as you glance about, and don't notice any backup on the way. Do you continue?
Yes
You continue CPR procedures, but your body involuntarily slows from the exertion, and still there is no pulse. After 30 minutes, you are forced to stop from the sheer exhaustion. You fume; why the hell didn't anyone show up? Amaro might know.
Go up
The helicopter is landed next to a lifeboat. Amaro waits on you expectedly.

Amaro spits out, "Our backup got diverted. They found the main vessel." You sigh and relay the results of your revive attempts. He hits the console at your news, "Devil take all, and what else?!" He gathers himself before speaking again, "We have to report this."
You show the tape to Amaro
Amaro surprises at it, "Looks like ship audio logs. It's probably evidence. We need fuel, we can play it back at base." He makes the report himself. Dispatch is just as disappointed at the outcome, but offers to find appropriate playback equipment by the time you return. As the helicopter beats towards land, you curiously turn the tape over in your hands. This was important to her. She clung to life
just long enough to make sure that someone got that tape. You will be one of the first to hear it played, just as she wanted.
You look around
A white, crystalline Ancient structure that perfectly houses you.

Captain takes advantage of Mercy and Assister's pre-occupation. She launches a flaring, gibbering ball at Assister, who falls in a confused, black tangle. Captain similarly dispatches Mercy when she comes out. Captain drags your Cellarium out and over the side of the ship. You float down and land far from your appointed place. You Sing, and re-join the Universe, but slightly off-key. You settle in, reshaping the seafloor so that eventually, after many millennia, you will once again enjoy perfect harmony.
Go north
Messdeck (Controlling Mercy)
Tables and chairs are bolted to the ground.

The galley is to the west, and the loading deck is to the south. A vent leads up and a set of stairs leads down.
Go east
Wet Lab (Controlling Mercy)
A foray into understand the bliss they will never see themselves. A sample of part of your body is displayed with the freshly-inked label "Internal Crystal Scraping".

The loading deck is back to the west.
No
You inform her that there haven't been Ancients on the moon for millennia: that's why its core is dead and silent. The Mercy fascinates over this revelation.
You color Mercy brown
You are synced in blissful unity with this Blind One. Her color can be nothing but pure white while you continue to control her.
Release
What do you want to release?
You release Mercy
You sing of separation, of independence. Mercy regains majority control of her own body.
You color Mercy brown
"Brown" isn't a pure wavelength. You can only create simple emotions. You reach out, caressing Mercy's delicate aura, willing it to become brown. Her aura absorbs this new state willingly, as though they were her own emotions.
You examine Mercy
A Sighted One. She offers herself as yours to control.

Her pure white aura radiates bliss.

The Mercy ponders in remorseful, dark yellows what drove Captain to her solitude.
Look around
Responsibility concaves heavily in this room, dragging everything down. The human-furnitures fight to remain upright in all the weight.

The quarterdeck is to the west.

The Mercy idly wraps herself in her own bliss.
You look at the furniture
A bunk and a desk seem somewhat interesting.

The Mercy searches semi-unsettled yellow for clues to Captain's behavior while waiting for you.
You examine the bunk
The single slotted bed is drenched in Captain's fading colors. She must have been turning her mind to vindictive madness.

The Mercy tumbles in anticipation for your unity.
You examine the desk
A piece of human-furniture with a paper.

The Mercy ponders in remorseful, dark yellows what drove Captain to her solitude.
You search the sea
Nothing but open, empty sea.
Nothing but open, empty sea....
Nothing but open, empty sea.......
Nothing but open, empty sea.......... but wait, you do see something! A dark speck, in the distance. Amaro seems to notice it at the same time. "Fantastic! Can you radio dispatch?" Amaro exclaims, "I'm going in for the approach."
Radio dispatch
You report that you may have found something interesting. The dispatch tries to contain their excitement at the news as you relay your intent to approach.

Amaro flies towards the destination. The shape starts to coalesce, but you still can't quite make it out. The radio crackles in reply, "Roger that. Hope you've found it!"
You look at the radio
It's the device that you use to radio dispatch.

The helicopter approaches the speck, and its shape slowly clears into a life boat. Your mind reels as you relays the details. How many survivors? Will any be critical? The radio statics in anxiously, "...keep on reporting."
Report
What do you want to report?
Life boat
You continue relaying information.

By now you are nearly on top of the life boat, but things do not seem promising. There are no distress signals, no flares, no reflecting glint: no signs of life. The radio seems to echo your unease, "Is it abandoned? Advising caution."
You look at the boat
It's much clearer now: a small lifeboat. You can't see anyone aboard, though, and the fact that they haven't sent off any distress signals or flares is worrying.

Amaro brings the helicopter to a hover over the life boat, and you can see a single person inside the boat, lying down. Amaro gestures to you that his position is stable and releases the ladder. The radio acknowledges your situation as a small emergency, but wants to focus on finding more survivors. "Just in case, sending backup your way, miss. Let's save somebody."
No
You've performed enough revive attempts to know when to call it. You fume; you'll have to report this.
Report death
You can only report from inside the helicopter.
You look at Medic
It is sad and frustrating.
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
a found tape
You look at your surroundings
The woman's dead body lies motionless. The life boat itself has markings indicating that it's from the missing research vessel.
Up
The helicopter is landed next to a lifeboat. Amaro waits on you expectedly.

Amaro spits out, "Our backup got diverted. They found the main vessel." You sigh and relay the results of your revive attempts. He hits the console at your news, "Devil take all, and what else?!" He gathers himself before speaking again, "We have to report this."
Report death
You steel yourself and make the call. Dispatch is just as disappointed at the outcome, but offers to find appropriate playback equipment by the time you return. As the helicopter beats towards land, you curiously turn the tape over in your hands. This was important to
her. She clung to life just long enough to make sure that someone
got that tape. You will be one of the first to hear it played, just as she wanted.
Up
The helicopter is landed next to a lifeboat. Amaro waits on you expectedly.

Amaro starts to chart the path back to the mainland.
You examine Amaro
He's almost as tired and anxious as you are.

Amaro waits for you to report the dead woman.
You report the the dead woman
You steel yourself and make the call. Dispatch is just as disappointed at the outcome, but they call you back to base to refuel and then prepare to assist with evacuating the main vessel: they apparently need to transport at least a dozen comatose survivors. They assure you that the Armada will be about shortly for the life boat
itself. You shift uncomfortably, thinking about whatever information may have been lost by destroying the tape, but you assure yourself that it was the right thing to do.