Not All Things Make It Across
Bruno Dias
cover art Inform 7 liminal spaces
All around the city now, parties are taking place. It's been a hell of a year, emphasis on hell. But tonight, there are other things you have to do. The end of the year is a threshold. And like all thresholds, not all things make it across.
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All around the city now, parties are taking place. It's been a hell of a year, emphasis on hell.

But tonight, there are other things you have to do. The end of the year is a threshold. And like all thresholds...



All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty), a desk (on which are a handkerchief, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, a shred of fabric, a broken propeller, a pint glass, and a trapped butterfly), and a chair here.

(If you would like explicit guidance on how to play, type INSTRUCTIONS)
About yourself
Getting old, to be quite honest.
You examine the wastebasket
It's an ordinary wastebasket, a cylinder of black aluminum. But wrapped around it is a complex pattern in silver thread that makes your eyes defocus if you try to follow it.

When midnight strikes, everything inside it will be destroyed. Even the magical things that are ordinarily hard to dispose of. Especially the magical things.
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Aleph          Before midnight               0/6

All around the city now, parties are taking place. It's been a hell of a year, emphasis on hell.

But tonight, there are other things you have to do. The end of the
year is a threshold. And like all thresholds...



All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a handkerchief, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, a shred of fabric, a broken propeller, a pint glass, and a trapped butterfly), and a chair here.

(If you would like explicit guidance on how to play, type
INSTRUCTIONS)
Examine box
Just a cardboard box you salvaged from the bodega down the street. Using paint made from wormwood and lead, you've marked it with a sigil meant to keep its contents safe in transit.

For packing in the things you want to keep.
You examine the desk
A cheap writing desk out of a flatpack. There's not even drawers.

On the desk are a handkerchief, a tallow candle, the keener fragment,
a goathorn piece, a shred of fabric, a broken propeller, a pint glass, and a trapped butterfly.
You examine the wormwood
(That thing is either not here, or you don't need to refer it over
the course of the story.)
You examine the chair
You salvaged this one out of a bistro that was about to close.
You get the chair
That's fixed in place.
You sit
What do you want to sit on?
Chair
You get onto the chair.
You look at the handkerchief
An ordinary grey pocket square. You keep it on hand; it's useful for handling things you'd rather not touch with bare skin.
You examine the candle
Made from tallow, with the dried optical nerve of a cow serving as the wick. It burns unevently with a purple-white flame; it does not smell great. The candle connects sight to memory and allows things to carry echoes of their history.
You examine fragment
It has no discernible physical shape. It's just a sullen, faded lump
of hatred, held together by its own surface tension, still radiating horror.

(You can TOUCH most things to learn more about them.)
You look at piece
A memento from twenty-odd years ago. Gods, it's been that
long. Its divine power is certainly faded, but you still hold on
to it for good luck. And, in all honesty, because gods have a bad
habit of being reborn from their pieces.
You touch the candle
You don't want to disturb it while it's burning. For all you know, touching it might bring on a vision of the cow being slaughtered.
You examine the fabric
A torn shred of thick synthetic material that someone carefully scored into a pattern that resembles feathers, or maybe scales.
You examine the propeller
composite; taken from the remains of a destroyed police drone.
You touch the fabric
(first taking the shred of fabric)
(first taking the handkerchief)
You gingerly take the shred of fabric with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the shred of fabric with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Rooftop, Sweltering
Just after sunset, several stories up, still radiating the heat of the day. A streak of blood runs across the edge of the building.
You examine the blood
A curved, triangular splatter. Not a gunshot; a fist. But produced
with abnormal force.
You examine the building
(That thing is either not here, or you don't need to refer it over
the course of the story.)
You look at what you're carrying with you
You are carrying:
a shred of fabric (held with your bare hand)
a handkerchief

(Once you are done here, you can LET GO to return.)
Down
You are in a phantom of the past, a congealed instant; you can only sense the world around you, or let go of a shred of fabric to escape.
Smell
Garbage baking in the sun all the way down in street-level; the ozone promise of rain in the air.
Taste
What do you want to taste?
You let go
You let go of the shred of fabric, and the vision fades around you.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a shred of fabric, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, a broken propeller, a pint glass, and a trapped butterfly), and a chair here.
You examine the glass
Which do you mean, the pint glass or the trapped butterfly?
Pint
A pint glass, the conical kind with a flared bulge towards the top. Faded lettering on the side spells out "Herrig's."
You look at butterfly
A viceroy butterfly, perpetually flying laps inside a glass torus. Breaking it out of its little time loop would have vast and far-reaching consequences, just like doing literally anything else.
But figuring out what those consequences are for a given time and
place is a daunting task of divination.
You touch the butterfly
(first taking the trapped butterfly)
You gingerly take the trapped butterfly with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the trapped butterfly with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Shop, Cramped
The back door is still swinging where the shopkeeper went in to fetch something; the front door is caught closing as a customer walks away. The item in your hand remembers, particularly, this tiny instant of quiet between two doors slamming after an unwelcome visit, before everything went to hell.

All around you, the shelves are filled with a panoply of bizarre artifacts.
You look at the door
(That thing is either not here, or you don't need to refer it over
the course of the story.)
You look at the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on an empty aquarium.
You look at the aquarium
Recently cleaned.
You look at the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a caged crow.
You examine the crow
Asleeep in a brass cage.
You examine the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on an empty bell jar.
You examine the bell jar
Marked as sold.
You look at the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a Great
War gas mask.
You look at gas mask
Mint condition.
You look at the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a coal carving.
You examine the carving
The size of a human head and the shape of an inhuman head.
You examine the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a bottle
of faerie wine.
You look at the faerie wine
Curiously small and very, very old.
You examine the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a collection of hands of glory.
You look at the hands of the glory
Mummified and dipped in wax.
You look at the artifacts
Your eyes roam over the shelf space, eventually settling on a caged crow.
You get the hands
You are in a phantom of the past, a congealed instant; you can only sense the world around you, or let go of a trapped butterfly to
escape.
You let go
You let go of the trapped butterfly, and the vision fades around you.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, a broken propeller, and a pint glass), and a chair here.
Look around
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, a broken propeller, and a pint glass), and a chair here.
You examine the keener
It has no discernible physical shape. It's just a sullen, faded lump
of hatred, held together by its own surface tension, still radiating horror.
You touch the propeller
(first taking the broken propeller)
You gingerly take the broken propeller with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the broken propeller with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Warehouse, Exploding
A mess of fire and debris, stopped mid-detonation.
Smell
Not like black powder, not like cordite. Acrid and sharp like some
kind of high explosive.
You examine the fire
High-speed chunks of aluminum and composite polymers, turned into expensive shrapnel; the remains of police drones, and maybe a fragment or two of the bomb that set them off.
You touch the fire
You are in a phantom of the past, a congealed instant; you can only sense the world around you, or let go of a broken propeller to escape.
You examine the propeller
composite; taken from the remains of a destroyed police drone.
You let go
You let go of the broken propeller, and the vision fades around you.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle, the keener fragment, a goathorn piece, and a pint glass), and a chair here.
You touch the glass
Which do you mean, the trapped butterfly or the pint glass?
You touch the pint
(first taking the pint glass)
You gingerly take the pint glass with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the pint glass with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Bar, Silent
Rain on the windows turns the world outside into a yellowy haze; upturned chairs rest on wooden tables.

And over the counter, a note changes hands between a bartender and a patron.
You examine the note
A napkin with an address scrawled on. It corresponds to a peculiar
shop downtown.
You examine bartender
Rough, tall, bulky; like everything in his bar he looks like he's made out of hardwood and old magic.
You examine the patron
Average in build but oddly sharp-eyed; you notice her undercut, though most of her is fuzzy. Whatever magic she's been tampering with has given her so much of an aura that she seems to vibrate in the air, there-and-not-there. And you know she isn't done, yet.
You touch patron
You are in a phantom of the past, a congealed instant; you can only sense the world around you, or let go of a pint glass to escape.
You examine the tables
Oak.
You examine the windows
Not at their cleanest, today.
You let go
You let go of the pint glass, and the vision fades around you.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a pint glass, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle, the keener fragment,
and a goathorn piece), and a chair here.
You touch the piece
(first taking the goathorn piece)
You gingerly take the goathorn piece with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the goathorn piece with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Basement, 1994
Dark and humid; silt has broken through the walls, the floor is
drowned in seawater, and the smell of rotting fish is everywhere.

And in the middle of the basement, a man speaks to a god of goats.
Smell
Silt, saltwater, urea.
You look at the silt
Grey and rough.
You look at your surroundings
Vision: Basement, 1994
Dark and humid; silt has broken through the walls, the floor is
drowned in seawater, and the smell of rotting fish is everywhere.

And in the middle of the basement, a man speaks to a god of goats.
You examine the fish
A god of living goats and dead fish, caught in this place trying to swallow modernity. Head of a goat, fishtail, united by a body obscured under layers of hairshirt-like wool. Strange and bloodied. It would eventually be swallowed, itself.
You look at the man
You already looked a bit unsteady, a bit rough around the edges, back then.
You let go
You let go of the goathorn piece, and the vision fades around you.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a goathorn piece, a pint glass, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle,
and the keener fragment), and a chair here.
You look at piece
A memento from twenty-odd years ago. Gods, it's been that
long. Its divine power is certainly faded, but you still hold on
to it for good luck. And, in all honesty, because gods have a bad
habit of being reborn from their pieces.
Look around
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty),
a desk (on which are a goathorn piece, a pint glass, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, a tallow candle,
and the keener fragment), and a chair here.
You touch fragment
(first taking the keener fragment)
You gingerly take the keener fragment with the handkerchief.

You grab hold of the keener fragment with your bare hand, and your vision swims for a lingering instant...

Vision: Darkness
IT HATES. IT HATES. IT HATES. IT HATES. IT HATES. IT HATES. IT HATES.
You examine the hate
It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates.
Smell
It hates. It hates. It hates. It hates.
You look at it
It hates. It hates.
You listen
It hates.
Taste
What do you want to taste?
Taste hate
It hates.

No, wait. Something's wrong.

All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see the keener fragment, an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (empty), a desk (on which are a goathorn piece, a pint glass, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, and a tallow candle), and a chair here.

Your hands are still shaking. It seems you threw the thing down on the floor with some force.
You take the hate
You gingerly take the keener fragment with the handkerchief.
You put the hate in the wastebasket
You put the keener fragment into the wastebasket. You'll be really
glad to be rid of this thing; even in pieces, those have a mind of their own. You could never track down who made the original device, anyway, from just this small piece.
Look around
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (in which is the keener fragment), a cardboard box (empty), a desk (on which are a goathorn piece, a pint glass, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, a shred of fabric, and a tallow candle), and a chair here.
You get the piece
You gingerly take the goathorn piece with the handkerchief.
Examine box
Just a cardboard box you salvaged from the bodega down the street. Using paint made from wormwood and lead, you've marked it with a sigil meant to keep its contents safe in transit.
You put the goathorn in the box
You put the goathorn piece into the box. It's probably safe to keep, anyway. And besides, it complements the telling of the story of how
you came to possess it.
You take the fabric
You gingerly take the shred of fabric with the handkerchief.
You look at the box
Just a cardboard box you salvaged from the bodega down the street. Using paint made from wormwood and lead, you've marked it with a sigil meant to keep its contents safe in transit.

In the cardboard box is a goathorn piece.
You put the fabric in the wastebasket
You put the shred of fabric into the wastebasket. That case is closed, anyway, and you travel light.
You get the propeller
You gingerly take the broken propeller with the handkerchief.
You put the propeller in the wastebasket
You put the broken propeller into the wastebasket. I mean, it's really just mundane trash, but you kept it for a while as a reminder that they're not invincible.
Look around
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (in which are a broken propeller,
a shred of fabric, and the keener fragment), a cardboard box (in which is a goathorn piece), a desk (on which are a pint glass, a trapped butterfly, and a tallow candle), and a chair here.
You get the pint
You gingerly take the pint glass with the handkerchief.
You put the pint in the box
You put the pint glass into the box. It has sentimental value. Plus, it's hard to get another one given that Herrig kind of despises you.
You get the butterfly
You gingerly take the trapped butterfly with the handkerchief.
You put the butterfly in the box
You put the trapped butterfly into the box. Sure, in retrospect this
is hardly the most useful thing to grab and run out of a fire in a magic shop, but hindsight is 20/20.

There; it's done. You've picked what to keep and what to discard from the past. A cleaner entry into another year of struggle.

Nobody has fun on new year's eve anyway; the pressure is too much. So you might as well spend it choosing what to take and what to leave behind. A year in this city has shown you enough things that you'd rather not have seen.

You light a cigarette while you wait out the last few moments. You don't hear the snap of the wastebasket vanishing into thin
air at midnight; it's drowned out by the crackle of fireworks outside. But you smell ozone in the air, and feel the telltale vibration of something ceasing to exist.
Afterword
for the occasion of New Year's Eve. It's set in the same universe as Cape and Mere Anarchy, and shares a player character
with The World Turned Upside Down and Four Sittings in a
Sinking House. It is, therefore, even more self-indulgent than
the December game I wrote in 2015.

As always, I can be reached on Twitter (@notbrunoagain).

Special thanks in no particular order to Cat Manning, Katherine Morayati, Brendan Patrick Hennessy, furkle, juxi, Sam Kabo Ashwell, Astrid Dalmady, Hannah Flynn, Liam MacDonald, Adam Myers, Liam Welton, Samuel Partridge, Jason Macintosh, Caleb Wilson, Doug Orleans, Emily Short, verityvirtue, Kevin Snow, and everyone else who aided, supported, and read my work in 2016.

December 30th, 2016

(You can read this again by typing AFTERWORD anywhere in the
game)

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, QUIT, UNDO the last command, or read the author's AFTERWORD?
You look
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (in which are a broken propeller,
a shred of fabric, and the keener fragment), a cardboard box (in which are a pint glass and a goathorn piece), a desk (on which is a tallow candle), and a chair here.
You turn off the candle
You don't want to disturb it while it's burning. For all you know, touching it might bring on a vision of the cow being slaughtered.
You get the basket
You would really, really rather not be holding it when it
goes off.
Burn basket
This dangerous act would achieve little.
You put the box in the basket
You don't need to concern yourself with the cardboard box; it's actually perfectly ordinary.
You put the handkerchief in the basket
You don't need to concern yourself with the handkerchief; it's
actually perfectly ordinary.
You put candle in the basket
You'll dispose of the candle properly once it's done burning.
You put the basket in the box
You don't need to concern yourself with the engraved wastebasket; it's actually perfectly ordinary.
You put the self in the box
You don't need to concern yourself with yourself; it's actually perfectly ordinary.
You read the basket
It's an ordinary wastebasket, a cylinder of black aluminum. But
wrapped around it is a complex pattern in silver thread that makes
your eyes defocus if you try to follow it.

In the engraved wastebasket are a broken propeller, a shred of fabric, and the keener fragment.

When midnight strikes, everything inside it will be destroyed.
Even the magical things that are ordinarily hard to dispose of. Especially the magical things.
You get all from the box
(You will have to refer to things individually in this
story.)
You examine basket
It's an ordinary wastebasket, a cylinder of black aluminum. But
wrapped around it is a complex pattern in silver thread that makes
your eyes defocus if you try to follow it.

In the engraved wastebasket are a broken propeller, a shred of fabric, and the keener fragment.
You get the propeller
(first putting the trapped butterfly back on the desk)
You gingerly take the broken propeller with the handkerchief.
You get the fragment
(first putting the broken propeller back on the desk)
You gingerly take the shred of fabric with the handkerchief.

(first putting the shred of fabric back on the desk)
You gingerly take the keener fragment with the handkerchief.
Describe the surroundings
All the units in this old building have been divided and subdivided until they're dangerously cramped. The apartment is much as you found it; a year is not so long, and you'll be gone soon.

You can see an engraved wastebasket (empty), a cardboard box (in which are a pint glass and a goathorn piece), a desk (on which are a shred
of fabric, a broken propeller, a trapped butterfly, and a tallow candle), and a chair here.
You put the butterfly in the box
(first taking the trapped butterfly)
You gingerly take the trapped butterfly with the handkerchief.

You put the trapped butterfly into the box. Sure, in retrospect this
is hardly the most useful thing to grab and run out of a fire in a magic shop, but hindsight is 20/20.

In the end, you're too much of a pack rat to really leave anything behind. Particularly in such a definitive way. But it's the exercise
of choosing that counts; if you're going to carry all those memories along with you, let it be because you think they matter.

Nobody has fun on new year's eve anyway; the pressure is too much. So you might as well spend it choosing what to take and what to leave behind. A year in this city has shown you enough things that you'd rather not have seen.

You light a cigarette while you wait out the last few moments. You don't hear the snap of the wastebasket vanishing into thin
air at midnight; it's drowned out by the crackle of fireworks outside. But you smell ozone in the air, and feel the telltale vibration of something ceasing to exist.
You put the butterfly in the wastebasket
(first taking the trapped butterfly)
You gingerly take the trapped butterfly with the handkerchief.

You put the trapped butterfly into the wastebasket. It's kind of sad destroying this, since it's one of a kind, but it's also useless and bizarrely cruel.

There; it's done. You've picked what to keep and what to discard from the past. A cleaner entry into another year of struggle.

Nobody has fun on new year's eve anyway; the pressure is too much. So you might as well spend it choosing what to take and what to leave behind. A year in this city has shown you enough things that you'd rather not have seen.

You light a cigarette while you wait out the last few moments. You don't hear the snap of the wastebasket vanishing into thin
air at midnight; it's drowned out by the crackle of fireworks outside. But you smell ozone in the air, and feel the telltale vibration of something ceasing to exist.
Examine box
Just a cardboard box you salvaged from the bodega down the street. Using paint made from wormwood and lead, you've marked it with a sigil meant to keep its contents safe in transit.

In the cardboard box are a shred of fabric, the keener fragment, a broken propeller, a pint glass, and a goathorn piece.
You put the fabric in the wastebasket
(first taking the shred of fabric)
You gingerly take the shred of fabric with the handkerchief.

You put the shred of fabric into the wastebasket. That case is closed, anyway, and you travel light.
You put the propeller in wastebasket
(first taking the keener fragment)
You gingerly take the keener fragment with the handkerchief.

You put the keener fragment into the wastebasket. You'll be really
glad to be rid of this thing; even in pieces, those have a mind of their own. You could never track down who made the original device, anyway, from just this small piece.

(first taking the broken propeller)
You gingerly take the broken propeller with the handkerchief.

You put the broken propeller into the wastebasket. I mean, it's really just mundane trash, but you kept it for a while as a reminder that they're not invincible.
Examine box
Just a cardboard box you salvaged from the bodega down the street. Using paint made from wormwood and lead, you've marked it with a sigil meant to keep its contents safe in transit.

In the cardboard box are a pint glass and a goathorn piece.
You put the pint in wastebasket
(first taking the pint glass)
You gingerly take the pint glass with the handkerchief.

You put the pint glass into the wastebasket. To be quite honest,
you're not sure if these are even enchanted. You nicked one hoping it had some kind of self-cleaning charm on it, but no such luck.
You put the goathorn in the wastebasket
(first taking the goathorn piece)
You gingerly take the goathorn piece with the handkerchief.

You put the goathorn piece into the wastebasket. You've told that
story a couple of times now, but maybe it's time to bury that body;
the old fish-goat still shows up ever so often in your nightmares, crying about the concept of cheese.
You put the butterfly in the wastebasket
(first taking the trapped butterfly)
You gingerly take the trapped butterfly with the handkerchief.

You put the trapped butterfly into the wastebasket. It's kind of sad destroying this, since it's one of a kind, but it's also useless and bizarrely cruel.

It's been, in the ways that count, and awful year. Nobody will blame you for throwing out what little good there is, along with all the
bad. You try not to let your mind form the words "fresh start"; there has never been one, and never will be.

Nobody has fun on new year's eve anyway; the pressure is too much. So you might as well spend it choosing what to take and what to leave behind. A year in this city has shown you enough things that you'd rather not have seen.

You light a cigarette while you wait out the last few moments. You don't hear the snap of the wastebasket vanishing into thin
air at midnight; it's drowned out by the crackle of fireworks outside. But you smell ozone in the air, and feel the telltale vibration of something ceasing to exist.