text: > examine man
  Kind of a beefy guy, maybe in his early 50s. He's wearing a rather striking outfit: pinstripe trousers, bottle-green morning coat, yellow waistcoat, deep purple ascot, high stiff collar, and a top hat. Must be absolutely sweltering, but he shows no signs of discomfort.
  
  He proudly sports mutton-chop sideburns and a rather magnificent moustache. He rests both hands on a fine walking-stick.
  
  Your eyes meet for a second, and he gives you a polite nod.
  
  [Maybe you'd like to say something? If so, type TALK, or T for short.]
  
  > look at Emma
  You've never found quite the right word to describe her appearance. Rangy? Gamine? Gawky, even. Sometimes she laughs at your attempts, sometimes she scowls. Dark hair, dark eyes, cute by any objective standard. Aren't you lucky?
  
  She's wearing a kind of hipster-ish ensemble that looks great on her (just don't actually say "hipster" in her hearing). Long loose shirt over fitted tee, cut-offs over leggings, canvas shoes, messenger bag, chunky specs, and -- you're in Paris, after all -- a beret.
  
  Emma tries not to be too obvious about looking at the strangely-dressed man.
  
  > About you
  You're Robbie Teyte, 29 years and some several months old. Never really figured out what you want from life; not that you're feeling any pressure, but maybe a little bit at a loose end. You wanted to do something a bit different, a bit romantic, a bit adventurous. "Dirty weekend!" Emma said by way of summary. "I'm so there."
  
  Or maybe you just wanted to know what you look like? You don't have a mirror handy, sorry. Don't worry about it, I'm sure you look just fine.
  
  The man coughs. "Do pardon my curiosity," he says, "but are you by any chance en route to the Hotel Guiraud?"
  
  "Yes we are," Emma says cheerfully. "Hotel Guiraud and Old Paris. How did you know? I suppose we look like the most awful tourists."
  
  "Not at all, not at all," he replies grandly. "As a matter of fact it was your luggage."
  
  > talk to Emma
  [In this game, you don't need to specify a person or topic when talking. Just type TALK, or T for short, and I'll show a menu of things you might want to say.]
  
  [To say something, type a number. Or you can ignore the menu and do something else. If at any time you want to talk but there's no menu, just type TALK again.]
  
  1. Introduce yourself.
  
  > 1
  "Hey," you say, "I'm Robbie. Pleased to meet you."
  
  "Hi!" Emma says. "Emma."
  
  "Enchanted," the strangely-dressed man says. "The pleasure is mine, I assure you. George Austerley, at your service." And he gallantly raises his top hat.
  
  "Wow, thank you," Emma says. "Rob, you need a hat like that."
  
  1. "What was that about luggage?"
  2. "Do you visit Old Paris a lot?"
  
  > 1
  "What's wrong with our luggage?" you ask. (You have certain dark opinions of your own on the topic.)
  
  "Oh, nothing wrong -- nothing wrong at all -- quite the opposite," George says. "In fact it rather resembles my own, as you can see." He gestures with his walking-stick, and you suddenly notice that he, too, has a massive unwieldy trunk, stowed neatly under the seat next to him. "The very thing for a journey to the past."
  
  1. "Can we actually take luggage with us?"
  2. "Do you visit Old Paris a lot?"
  
  > look at the luggage
  Which do you mean, George's luggage or your luggage?
  
  > look at your luggage
  Your luggage for this trip is a massive trunk originally belonging to Emma's great-grandfather, before being passed down through several generations. Emma probably stole it from some aunt or other because it looked quirky and interesting, not realising or not caring that it also has the approximate weight of a great dane.
  
  It predates such decadent ideas as wheels or comfortable handles, but does have the advantage of being more or less indestructible. Kick it as you might, you've never managed to make the slightest dent in it.
  
  Emma says she brought it because it'd be a laugh. There's a cruel streak to her humour sometimes.
  
  "Before I forget," George says, "perhaps you'd like my card." He deftly retrieves a thin silver case from his breast pocket, and from the case takes a card.
  
  "Oh, I love cards!" Emma says. He hands the card to her with a slight flourish.
  
  > give you the the card
  Emma has better things to do.
  
  "You're an art dealer?" Emma says, inspecting the card. "I can certainly see why you like Old Paris. Do you buy paintings there and bring them back?"
  
  "Oh, dear me, no," says George. "That's absolutely against the rules. Economic exploitation, you know."
  
  > 2
  "Something tells me you visit Old Paris a lot," you say.
  
  "Oh, well, a certain amount," George says modestly. "Perhaps once every month or two."
  
  "Every month?" Emma says. "I think you can call that a lot. This is our first time."
  
  The ?lev? starts to gain height and slowly swing round to the south. You're approaching the Op?ra-Garnier.
  
  1. "Can we actually take luggage with us?"
  2. "How long have you been going there?"
  
  > 2
  "How long have you been going over there?" you ask.
  
  "Now there's a question," George says. "Not since the beginning, but a fair old time. It's 1902 now, so, let's see... My goodness, almost 10 years."
  
  1. "Can we actually take luggage with us?"
  2. "You must have seen a lot of changes in 10 years."
  
  > examine the stick
  It's made of some dark wood, finely polished, brass-tipped, with a round head also in brass.
  
  > 2
  "You must have seen a lot of changes in 10 years," you say.
  
  "Astonishing changes," George says. "History books have the facts, but not the feel of it. In art especially -- most incredible enthusiasm -- bold new directions -- but in everything -- the Grand Palais, the ?lev? -- change is the essence of the place."
  
  1. "Can we actually take luggage with us?"
  2. "Seen anything that's not in the history books?"
  
  > examine the opera
  An opulent wedding cake -- more layers than anyone could possibly eat -- with the ?lev? routes twined around it like decorative ribbons.
  
  The ?lev? completes its turn around the Op?ra, and heads towards the Louvre. Your hotel can't be far away now.
  
  You can't go that way.
  
  > stand
  You get up to stretch your legs and enjoy the breeze. That faint thrilling vibration feels stronger when you're standing, too.
  
  "We should pick your brains," Emma says, "Is there anything we must do while we're there?"
  
  "Hmm," George says, "you put me on the spot. How long are you staying?"
  
  "Just the weekend -- three nights," Emma says.
  
  "Oh! Barely enough to scratch the surface, I'm afraid," George says. "I suppose my advice should be, don't listen to anyone's advice! Follow where chance and instinct lead -- sleep and the morning can be safely disregarded -- the left bank, of course, but one must not follow a plan."
  
  "We'd better write this down," Emma says.
  
  > Kiss george
  That moustache is rather fascinating, isn't it? But even on a summer's evening in Paris, he's not really your type.
  
  Emma beckoningly pats the seat next to her.
  
  > look at the moustache
  Robustly three-dimensional, almost curvaceous, with perfect bilateral symmetry. It glistens.
  
  George sits up and looks keenly to the south. "And here's our stop coming up, I believe," he says.
  
  "Already?" Emma says, craning her neck. "I see it! That blue sign -- Hotel Guiraud."
  
  George stands. "Well, I'll take my leave now. Like to give myself plenty of time to navigate the steps of this monstrosity, you know."
  
  > Open luggage
  Which do you mean, George's luggage or your luggage?
  
  > open george's luggage
  I don't think George would appreciate that.
  
  George stands, doffs his hat and bows elegantly. "Emma, Robbie -- most pleasant to make your acquaintance," he says.
  
  "It was lovely to meet you," Emma says.
  
  "Well, I shan't hold you up," George says. "Au revoir and all that -- should be delighted to see you on the other side, of course --" And he hoists his luggage and starts carefully descending.
  
  > look
  The ?lev? is a huge, terraced moving walkway that curves and swoops through the heart of Paris. Perhaps not the most efficient mode of transport in the world, but certainly one of the most striking. It's a little reminiscent of an ancient Greek amphitheatre, except that the rows of steps are moving, each a little faster than the one beneath. The only sound is a gentle rumble and the occasional whine from one of the motors. Each step whines at its own distinctive pitch, and the combined effect is oddly musical. Clever baffles divert most of the wind, leaving only a stiff breeze. Perched at the top, you're moving at some twenty kilometres per hour.
  
  You're travelling south-east along the Avenue de l'Op?ra, towards the Louvre. And there it is, approaching fast -- Hotel Guiraud!
  
  Emma stands looking out over Paris.
  
  Emma waves at George.
  
  > Talk
  1. (to Emma) "He left in a hurry."
  2. (to Emma) "What a great old man."
  3. (to Emma) "What a weird old man."
  4. (to Emma) "What do you think of him, then?"
  
  > 3
  "What do think of him, then?" you say.
  
  "Crazy," Emma says, "but lovely. And maybe not totally crazy at that. All that gentlemanly hat-doffing stuff is kind of sexy."
  
  "Sexy? With that moustache? You've got to be kidding."
  
  "You've got to be more open-minded," Emma says.
  
  1. "We'd better be on our way too."
  
  [That option isn't available.]
  
  "We'd better be on our way too," Emma says. But she pauses for a moment and looks out over Paris, and smiles. She has never looked more beautiful.
  
  > kiss emma
  You can't let the moment pass unacknowledged. You put arms around her and kiss her deeply, and she kisses you back and holds you tightly. Your heartbeat has finally slowed; it's so slow it's painful. And you're gliding through the air above Paris.
  "Okay," Emma says finally, "If we don't get a move on there's a risk of the past turning into the present."
  She skips away down the levels of the ?lev?, and you follow, swinging the luggage in one hand. With each step the city slows and looms larger; it feels like you're acquiring a childlike stature to match your childlike glee.
  
  You catch up with her, and hand in hand you walk together towards the Hotel Guiraud.
  
  Who knows what the past will hold?
  
  > Afterword
  Thanks for playing! I would love to hear your feedback. E-mail iain.merrick@gmail.com or just catch me on ifMUD.
  
  This is an entry in IntroComp 2010, so if you'd like to see more, please vote for me! You'll get to visit Paris in the 1900s, and I'll get to do a ton of research so it actually feels like Old Paris, as it was and as it should have been: art, music, style, romance, intrigue, scandal, debauchery, intoxication, chases over the rooftops, temporal paradoxes, and perhaps a night at the opera. Interested?
  
  Would you like to RESTART, QUIT, UNDO the last command, read the CREDITS or read the AFTERWORD?