text: [Themes: Olfactory Noir, female protagonist, scent, olfactory]
  
  > Describe the surroundings
  The cavern opens into an angular vault of chiseled rock, gently lit by wooly carpets of fungi. An ivory chest lies in the center.
  
  You can see a security automaton and an octopus here.
  
  > Smell automaton
  The olfactons have been stripped from this security bot, as per regulations.
  
  > Close chest
  You close the chest.
  
  > Go west
  You can't go that way.
  
  [The only way to go is east.]
  
  > Go east
  You feel your way through some kind of cavern. A bridge of stinking iron spans a chasm before you. Across the bridge, a gap in the darkness bleeds ghostly light.
  
  > Up
  An office cut from obsidian and silver. Fake dawnlight streams through drawn blinds. A murky aquarium sits beneath the blinds. The exits are a stainless steel door on the east wall and the hallway door south.
  
  A massive black safe lies open, revealing a hole downward.
  
  > look at the blinds
  White plastic strips. Standard blind fare. Positively provincial compared to some of the mind-blowing blinds they've got up in--oh, who're you kidding.
  
  > Smell blinds
  Thoroughly de-olfactonized.
  
  > go to the south
  You tip-toe across the room, scrolls gripped in your clammy hands.
  
  A cold presence crawls up your back. You turn around.
  
  The erogater stands naked and vaporous, ice water tracing down her body. Her eyes regard you, two impassive filaments, but her nostrils flare, drinking in
  
  sucking in all the sweat beaded up in your armpits, rolling down your collar bone, hot and moist around your cunt, itching across your skin, and deeper, deeper, smelling your whole body of beating blood like dragged up red roots suspended dripping in the air, sniffing the marrow in your bones like a starving, salivating wolf ready to crunch, and deeper still, smelling your thoughts, every single silly, embarassing, personal thought, every hope and dream and aspiration you've ever had, she smells your soul, your electromagnetic quintessence, all the stuff that makes you up, she sucks into her nostrils like hallucinogenic ribbons rippling across the room--
  
  --and then she's right next to you and her fingers are crawling across your skin and you head-butt her and there's blood and clay dust all over your face but she's reeling back and you spin from the room and--
  
  --run at breakneck speeds down the hall, through the jauntry room, and into the alley where an alarm rises into the air, keening and spectral.
  
  The western mouth of this alley is filled with an iron gate. A security camera stares down from above the gate. Sob Street lies east.
  
  > Go east
  Down the street you see incoming squad cars, sirens splashing green light across the fog. A megaphone booms, nightmarish and distorted, like the roaring of some beast. Are they saying your name? Are they saying anything? Or just screaming bestially, baying for blood...
  Sob Street
  Sob Street runs along the waterfront, a wall of fog smeared with emerald sirenlight. The only possible way to run from the horde of speeding squad cars that has any chance of survival however remote is south!
  
  > Go south
  Squad cars are howling from the mist, they'll be on you in a few seconds! To the east you see Club Coccyx, vibrating, shaking, shuddering in its foundations.
  
  You can see some chalice city songers here.
  
  > Go east
  You race across the street and into Club Coccyx. As your foot crosses the threshold, the floor wrenches itself from the ground with a titanic spasm, knocking you down.
  You leap up, grabbing the edge of the floor as the Club rises above the grimy walls, past the jungle of dead neon signs, into the cool night air.
  The building yaws to one side. You claw onto the threshold, carving swathes through a dark layer of crushed cigarette stubs and spilled whiskey. The floor rises above your head and everything that isn't nailed down inside the club starts to roll down towards you. Bottles and ashtrays skid past your head, plummeting into the clouds.
  clinging to the middle edge
  The city is rapidly shrinking below you. You have some room to the right and left, if you need to adjust your grip.
  
  > Enter
  You can't go that way.
  
  [From here, you can go up, right and left.]
  
  A chair comes hurtling out of the darkness towards your face!
  
  > Right
  The city is rapidly shrinking below you.
  
  > Up
  You crawl, one hand in front of the other, a little further up from the edge.
  
  The chair whips past your face.
  
  > Up
  You strain to lift yourself up. Sweat pours down your face.
  
  > Up
  Just a little more...
  
  A table slowly slides from the darkness, picking up momentum.
  
  > Right
  You can't go that way.
  
  [From here, you can go up and left.]
  
  > Left
  The city is rapidly shrinking below you. You have some room to the right and left, if you need to adjust your grip.
  
  > Up
  You grit your teeth.
  
  The table noses past you like an apologetic, blind hippopotamus feeling its way off a cliff. You barely cling to the edge as it tumbles past you, dribbling playing cards and shot glasses in its wake.
  
  > Up
  You drag yourself on board the flying building. Behind you, clouds race past. Goddamn you didn't even notice how much you were sweating. Fuck.
  tilted club
  You balance on the sloping floor. Alcohol runs past your feet in rivulets, raining ethanol into the sky. The club is transforming itself, boilers and pipes exposing themselves behind the sultry chic and mood lighting. The northern wall is splayed by mechanical arms, revealing a metal wall with a blue cabin door set in it.
  
  > Smell alcohol
  Vision of sudden shaking, shattering glass, gushing release.
  
  > look at the arms
  The club is revealing an industrial, airborne side of itself you never knew.
  
  > look at the door
  A wooden door with a little porthole set in it.
  
  > Smell door
  You smell hurried hands and shouts.
  
  > open the door
  You try the door. It rattles in the frame. Locked.
  
  > knock on the door
  You hear sirens howling far below. Red lights sweep the sky, filling the interior of the club with crimson radiance.