Narrator S: The high altitudes of the Un are a brilliant cloudscape of prismatic crystal; a frigid void of harsh luminescence, ice, and wind; of sparkling glassy shrapnel, swirling vapors, and titanic mica shards. [A delicate melody and whistling wind.] 

Narrator M: The deep fathoms of the Fold, on the other hand… [A liquid immersion sound.] Close your eyes as hard as you can. Put your hands over your eyelids. 

Narrator X: Unless you’re one of those daredevils who listens to Unend while driving, in which case, don’t do that. 

S: Congratulations! You’re now seeing what everyone is seeing outside the windows of every deck of the Ship.

X: Nothing. 

S: Basically absolutely nothing, yeah. 

M: Literally black darkness. 

S: But of course, even when you cover your eyes, you’re still seeing weird blobs, surreal movements in the blackness. 

X: It’s almost impossible to see, but the blackness outside the Ship does have some form and texture. 

S: It’s a goopy, visceral reminder that the darkness out there isn’t actually nothing.

M: It’s not like the void of real outer space, which is dark because it’s the total absence of light and matter. This darkness is the opposite. It is presence. An oppressive, claustrophobic, dark STUFF is sliding against the Ship and pressing up against the windows, obstructing any kind of long-distance view.

X: Higher up in the Fold, there’s always a bit of a visibility decrease, a hazing of the far distance. But that distance has been shrinking and shrinking as the Ship goes down. 

S: Basically, the Ship is fuckin’ insanely deep in the Fold, descending through oppressive, endless, black murk. 

M: It’s been this way for days now. Initially, the increased density and physicality of the Fold caused the scientists a lot of excitement.

S: But their tests and readings haven’t really changed for days, and even THEY are starting to get cabin fever.

X: For folks like Cleo, it is unfortunately extremely dull and boring. There aren’t even any tearrors anymore, because there is no light to make any.

S: The Ship is very careful – very, very careful – not to cause any light pollution. They’ve basically polarized the windows so they can see out but nothing can see in, and no light can escape. 

M: An opaque black ship diving slowly through opaque black fog. 

S: Boooring! Unlike with the highest heights of the Un, many, many, many people have been this deep in the Fold before. Just…not on purpose. 

M: Cosmic gravity wants you to be here.

X:  Remember back at the teletheric broadcast platform when we told you that if you fell into the Mediun, you’d just fall and fall and fall through fog-like darkness? 

S: You’d probably starve to death before you fell this far, but your remains would pass through here eventually on their way down.

M: Like we said, it’s a place lots of people have visited. All of them were dead, though. 

X: That’s right, if you’re down here, you’re not coming back up.

M: Not usually. 

S: Unless you’re in a magic ship. Spooky! Well, to distract from this haunting reality which is absolutely vaguely or extremely on the minds of all aboard –

M: and to shake up the monotony of days of this ink-black darkness creeping by outside –

S: Cleo Guilemoth and Quino Del Belsaban have teamed up to prepare a little morale-boosting entertainment for the crew. (Cleo) [clears throat] “Alrighty, is everybody who wants to play here? We’re gonna get started soon.”

[Indistinct chatter.] 

X: Cleo is dressed in a deep turquoise velvet gown with puffy sleeves and a big bow at the small of her back, its long trailing ribbony ends fluttering behind her. 

M: She’s crocheted some kind of a snood, like a medieval hairnet, out of sparkly yarn and those rosy pearls she collected from the oasis, and her pink hair is bundled up in it, glowing gently. 

S: The conversation pit in the atrium is nearly full as a large majority of the crew sit around the Foldlight for warmth and camaraderie in this doomy, oppressive time of descent. It’s honestly surprising how many people have agreed to participate. Says a lot about how desperate people are getting for some kind of distraction. 

X: Cleo did her best, of course, to convince as many people as she could, and whether they’re here because they’re genuinely interested in some merry amusement or because they’re just bored out of their minds –

S: or they just couldn’t bear to say no to Cleo’s impassioned sales pitch – 

M: there’s quite a decent number assembled here, leaving but a skeleton crew on duty in Control. 

S: Cleo is dispensing sealed envelopes to everyone, envelopes that have been meticulously, lovingly, hand-decorated with swirly calligraphy and cute little drawings.

X: Omelet is scampering throughout the atrium as she does so, wearing a little costume of his own, 

S: some kind of little jester outfit with bells attached. 

X: He’s batting at people’s shoes, scuttling around the walls of the atrium, kinda gecko-like. 

S: (Cleo) “Welcome! Tonight, the atrium of our ship becomes the ballroom of the Dazzling Duchess, who WOULD be hosting this party tonight… if she had not gone missing just yesterday! I know it’s dark as heck out there you guys, but just try to imagine: We’re in a crystal palace surrounded by shimmering unlight – not exactly like the real Un, but more like a fantasy of the Un dreamed up by Fold-based artists who’ve never really been there. Huge flowers growing out of every piece of mica. Rainbow waterfalls pouring out of the Firmament. Sparkling air that DOESN’T hurt to breathe! Etcetera. This is all a blatant ripoff of my favorite comic series, Princess Shiny – or, let’s call it an homage, why not? I’ve been going stir crazy, you guys! Apparently, this is what happens if I get too bored.”

X: The crew exchanges anticipatory glances, sitting in the recessed seating around the Foldlight. Everett leans in close to Micky. The Granddaughter, sitting beside Artifice, as usual, blinks slowly and tranquilly. 

M: Both Merlin and Felix have partially opened their dossiers, eager to begin peering through the contents.

S: (Cleo) “So. Have any of you ever played a leisurely allegorical recreational performance – or LARP for short – before?” 

X: Lots of confused glances. 

M: A few shook heads.

X: Hambing nods excitedly. Yeah, he knows all about leisurely allegorical recreational performances. 

S: (Cleo) “Hambing, all right! Don’t worry everyone else, you’ll catch on really quick. The goal of this game is to get in character, have fun, and solve the mysterious disappearance of the Dazzling Duchess. But beware: some players will attempt to prevent the truth from becoming known. Everyone, you can open your envelopes now. I have created for each of you a character dossier. You’ll see your fictional persona’s name, title, description, etcetera – as well as your allies, enemies, special abilities, and your secret objectives. Since I wrote all of this, I won’t be playing a normal character myself, but instead will be taking on the role of Spellbinder Scintilla, a mysterious enchantress who speaks only in riddles. That means you can come to me for hints if you get stuck.”

X: She playfully holds up a glittery little masquerade mask to her eyes. 

S: (Cleo) “But who can say if my motivations are selfless?” 

M: As the crew attempt to immerse themselves in their characters and picture themselves in the dazzling ballroom of the Duchess, the dark, ooky, spooky, creepy tar goo of the Fold outside the Ship smears by slowly.

S: Cleo soldiers on. (Cleo) “Chef Quino has been my amazing accomplice in preparing this event, so he will also be playing a special role: that of the Ghostly Gourmand, a long-dead spirit who clings to this realm, driven by an insatiable need… to feed!” 

X: Quino comes down the stairs from the kitchen and dining balcony above, a white tablecloth thrown over his head. (Quino) “Partake of my refreshments or be cursed! How was that, Cleo?” 

S: (Cleo) “Haunting, chef! [laughs] Everyone has also been assigned a special partner, another player who you have a shared backstory with, who you can count on as an ally – at least, to start with. To help you get in the spirit of things, I encourage everyone to get in costume!”

M: Cleo gestures at several trunks full of clothes and jewelry that she’s schlepped down from her room. 

S: (Cleo) “You’re welcome to use any of my stuff, or anything else you can think of, to construct the perfect look for your character. Get creative! Now then, I’ll give everyone fifteen minutes or so to get ready, and then the game will begin! Oh, can you please let me know when it’s been fifteen minutes, Felix – or should I say, Lord Cryptopher of the Uncanny Isles?”

X: Quino, or should we say the Ghostly Gourmand, pushes his spooky bar cart from group to group, cheerful eyes twinkling from within the holes cut into the tablecloth. (Quino) “Merlin, your first beverage of the evening, but also, of course, a dire portent – one of these drinks is poisoned. Not really. One has a cherry at the bottom. If you find the cherry, you’ve been poisoned.” 

M: (Merlin) “Ah. Got it.” 

X: (Quino) “And of course, please let me know what you think of the delicious flavor of this new syrup. It’s an experiment.” 

M: (Merlin) “Understood, chef. Or should I say, the…Ghastly Gourmand? Ghostly. Grim?”

S: Atmospheric music begins to fill the chamber as Cleo switches on a little phonograph, and, with varying levels of enthusiasm and courage, people start investigating the costume chests and reading through the contents of their dossiers. 

X: At this moment, bocular technician Shug Ruggles doors up out of the elevator, visiting from the control room.

S: He halts in his tracks for a moment, seeing his crewmates getting into a variety of frilly dresses and jeweled necklaces. 

M: Merlin and Rawfield are both pulling on poofy sleeves, a couple of gambesons. 

S: (Cleo) “Oh, hey Shug! Did you decide to play after all?”

X: (Shug) “Eh…” Ruggles shakes his head. “No, I’m busy. We’re – anyway, um, if I could have your attention, please. We’re gonna be switching over all lights to red light.” 

S: (Cleo) “Does that mean it’s gonna get even darker in here?” 

X: (Shug) “More red, at least,” Shug says. 

S: (Cleo) [sighs] “Okay, that’s fine. We’ll just have to use our imaginations even harder!” 

X: And it is indeed at that moment that all the various lamps and other light fixtures around the atrium turn red, plunging the atrium into a dim crimson luminance. The Foldlight remains primarily not red, but even it tips in a slightly pinkish direction.

S: It’s a good security precaution. Even with the windows polarized and opaque from the outside, whorls of curious fold nevertheless investigate the Ship with just a little bit more agitation than is comfortable, somehow drawn to the sense of concealed light within.

X: Hence, now, here, this additional precaution, switching the Ship over to the dimmest possible form of illumination. When it comes to the Fold and light sources, one can never be too careful. 

S: Hmm, the light switchover was actually pretty dramatic, pretty atmospheric. Cleo seems reinvigorated. This is a good opportunity to start the game. 

X: The leisurely allegorical recreational performance gets underway.

S: The LARP, right.

X: Artifice wastes no time and strolls directly over to Merlin. (Mother Artifice) “MERLIN, WHAT ARE YOUR PERSONA’S FEELINGS ABOUT LORD CRYPTOPHER?”

M: Merlin frantically flips through his, uh, dossier. (Merlin) “Ah, that’s a great question.”

X: (Mother Artifice) “I STRONGLY SUSPECT THAT HE IS NOT ALL THAT HE APPEARS.”

M: (Merlin) “No, and as the Enigmatical Wizard myself, I must agree. He’s very… enigmatic!”

X: (Mother Artifice) “I SENSE THAT YOU ARE DECEIVING ME. IS IT POSSIBLE THAT YOU ARE AN ASSASSIN IN DISGUISE?”

M: (Merlin) “Ah, n-no…”

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU DO NOT SEEM CONVINCED BY YOUR OWN UTTERANCE. WHAT ARE YOU WITHHOLDING?”

S: And with the ice spectacularly broken by Mother Artifice, the game begins. People start talking to each other, figuring out what characters they’ve been assigned. Some people feel a little silly. 

X: But there’s no lack of material to work with. These personas are thoughtfully and attentively designed, playing to each individual’s strengths and interests.

S: Cleo has clearly put a lot of thought into this, into what kind of character she assigned to each person. All these breezy chit-chats with Cleo ever since the beginning of the voyage? Nothing has been forgotten. 

M: Mind like a steel trap, that one, especially when it comes to remembering people’s likes and dislikes, their hobbies, their parents’ names, hidden talents and love languages…

S: People that might be more shy or less theatrical have been given special tasks that let them operate within their comfort zones. 

M: Even the partner selections seem extremely intentional, putting people with their friends, or in some cases with people that maybe they wanted to be friends with but hadn’t quite made the effort to spend meaningful time together.

S: Cleo notices. Cleo is here to help.

X: The long-simmering subtle romantic tension that has been building bit by bit between sous-chefs Voro and Mikelord is coming along pretty nicely now that they are obliged to play the part of forbidden lovers. Thanks, Cleo. Nice maneuvering. 

S: Does the trick every time. From behind her mask, Cleo watches everyone with a kind of vicarious satisfaction as people start to get the hang of the game.

M: Some return to the costume chests to add additional pieces to their looks. 

S: Some are trying out theatrical character voices.

M: Folks other than Mother Artifice shout in surprise as they discover different characters’ juicy secrets.

S: But most of all, people are having fun and getting along with each other.

M: But what’s this? Maybe not everyone is perfectly happy with their partner assignment. Everett, who was paired with the Granddaughter, comes over to find Cleo. 

X: (Everett) “Hey, Cleo, look, um… I don’t wanna mess up your game, but, uh, could I, like, play with a different partner? Other than the Granddaughter?” 

S: (Cleo) “Huh? But… So, well, the reason I paired you together is, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two speak to each other. And you’re both so cool, so, I just thought if you spent a little time together, it might–” 

X: (Everett) “It’s – Cleo, not everybody has to be friends. Could you, maybe? Anybody else? Who else can I pair with?” 

S: Cleo is flustered, but she hides it by checking her game master’s page of notes. (Cleo) “Well, um… How about Merlin?” 

X: (Everett) “Oh, sorry, not – not ANYBODY else, I – not Merlin. I’m still fed up with him. He did not tell me about Zoron. I’ve been trying for like twenty years to meet one of those travelers and learn about the gliders, and dude was literally onboard and nobody even woke me up. Not Merlin.” [laughs]

S: (Cleo) [scoffs] “Come ON, Everett!” 

M: The naturalist perks up, eyes wide behind her glasses. (Naturalist) “Everett, do you want to partner with me?” 

X: (Everett) “Yeah, you bet I will, buddy! Thanks, Cleo, sorry.”

S: (Cleo) “Uh, no…problem.” Cleo is a little miffed at this flagrant rearrangement of her carefully-designed game plan, but does her best to just roll with it. She swaps out the Granddaughter’s partner to be, uh, Micky. 

X: The Puzzlekeeper. 

S: They’re both chill, don’t talk a lot, comfortable with silence. They should make for a companionable duo. 

M: Merlin is now collaborating with his assigned partner, Dr. Ripley Rawfield, and though they’re both going through the motions of LARPing – they’re wearing the costumes – they are definitely just talking about work while Cleo is making the rounds.

S: Only while Cleo’s out of earshot. They don’t want to be rude.

X: Merlin and Rawfield are moreso accustomed to interacting in pretty dignified professional science and medical capacity, after all. This gaming thing is a little… It’s not normally their speed. It’s not really their personal preferred idea of a good time.

M: (Merlin) “Yes, unfortunately, I’ve been feeling, well, isolated. Uh, not quite sure if that’s something that’s going to pass, but–” 

S: (Rawfield) “Mmm, well you’ve never been out of the Un this long before, have you?”

M: (Merlin) “No, no.”

S: (Rawfield) “Could be symptoms of some minor Un-withdrawal, perhaps.” 

M: (Merlin) “I didn’t even think of that. That’s, that’s a good idea.” 

S: (Rawfield) “Well, it looks like you’re keeping yourself busy, at least. What have you got there?” 

M: (Merlin) “Since you asked…” 

X: Merlin pats Daggle’s teletheric device that he has been tinkering with here, even at the LARP.

M: (Merlin) “I’ve been testing out a hypothesis I have. Given that teletheric signals don’t traditionally work in the Fold, or rather, the signals get so corrupted it defeats the purpose of meaningful communication with teletherics, I thought: since the Fold isn’t IN the Ship, if we keep our communications limited to the confines of the Ship’s interior, will they still degrade?”

S: (Rawfield) “Interesting, interesting, but, uh… why, though? We can always just tube between decks if we need to talk to each other.” 

M: (Merlin) “Oh, Ripley, would you let me have my hobbies!?”

S: (Rawfield) [laughs]

M: (Merlin) “Anyway, this isn’t for the Ship; it’s just for the Bocular Man. He would be so much more useful if I could direct him remotely. For example, the Bocular Man is currently monitoring readings down in Control, waiting for any errant flags that might warrant a closer look.”

S: (Rawfield) “What, by himself?” 

M: (Merlin) “Ah! You begin to see the application! If I wanted to check on him, I’d have to go down there, or call the people on duty in Control, who of course have plenty of other demands on their time. Allow me to demonstrate.”

X: He tunes a dial on the apparatus. [A familiar ringing tonality.] Dot and Cleo look over pretty fast, both of them alarmed.

M: (Merlin) “Oh, drat.”

X: Merlin switches to the correct output. [The tonality stops.]

M: (Merlin) “Sorry, that’s a recording from, uh, when we were in the sloop, in the Un. Didn’t mean to press that button. [clears throat] Bocular Man?” 

(Bocular Man) “Hmm?” 

(Merlin) “Are there any updates that you’ve seen?”

(Bocular Man) “No, Merlin. Systems nominal.”

(Merlin) “Amazing! Thank you, Bocular Man!” 

S: (Rawfield) “Okay, Merlin, that is pretty cool. Heads up, though. Cleo inbound.” 

X: They hastily make a show of fluffing their dossiers, getting back into their roles.

S: (Rawfield) [clears throat]

M: (Merlin) “Royal Assassin, is it true that before she disappeared, the Dazzling Duchess gave you orders to kill the… Tenacious Treasurer?”

S: (Rawfield) “Uh, where did you hear that? Have you been talking to Lady Loquacious? She has ties to the Murk Minions, you know.” 

M: (Merlin) “Hmm, you sound a little defensive there, Rawfield, if I didn’t know you better.”

S: Cleo smiles in satisfaction and continues on her way. 

X: Felix and Hambing are charging around the atrium together, both of them hot on the trail of some intriguing clues related to the missing Duchess’s collection of singing flowers.

S: Felix, initially very reluctant to participate, has actually gotten kind of obsessed once he realized there was a cipher hidden in all the dossiers. 

M: And Hambing just likes adventure, period. Whether factual or fictional.

X: He’s taking huge flea leaps, sproinging from shoulder to shoulder, sowing the seeds of discord that his character, the – what does it say on his tiny dossier here – the Magistrate of Mischief, desires to sow through the kingdom.

M: (Hambing) “Artifice, the Royal Assassin abducted the Dazzling Duchess. Believe me, it’s true!” 

X: (Mother Artifice) “HAMBING, I AM WELL AWARE THAT YOU ARE LYING. BEGONE. YOUR MISCHIEF IS NOT WELCOME HERE.” 

M: (Hambing) “Foiled again!”

S: Shanamarian is having a great time. She has a petticoat around her shoulders like a cape, and with her four hands, she’s using the illumination of the Foldlight to cast some truly incredible shadow puppets on the rug, and is totally getting into character, besides. 

X: (Shanamarian) “Welcome to my hall of illusions!” she yells. She likes a good mystery. This is fun. 

S: She’s actually amazing at shadow puppetry, something she may have mentioned in passing to Cleo one time, and which Cleo never forgot.

M: So, it works out that Shahnamarian’s character is a conjurer who can create illusions, adding to the dazzling mystique of the Duchess’s ballroom. 

X: Lightbulb engineer Ephraim Amos and ship designer Abel Bowie are among those who took some extra convincing to participate in this game. 

S: Ephraim only agreed because he was too nonconfrontational to say no to Cleo,

M: and Abel was just embarrassed at the idea of role-playing, period. But they’re both actually having a lot of fun. 

S: Could it be? The camaraderie, the socializing, the change of scenery, having some kind of positive impact on their morale? 

X: Ephraim is partnered with Kanneken Hartevelt, journalist extraordinaire, and is gratefully coasting on Kanneken’s investigative instincts to unravel the mystery.

S: Abel is partnered with Mother Artifice, and is trying to ascertain what he knows about the Duchess’s disappearance, since, according to his dossier, he was the last person to speak to her before she went missing. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “BOWIE, MY SECRET OBJECTIVE IS TO CONVINCE YOU TO AID ME IN THE MUTUAL BETRAYAL OF LORD CRYPTOPHER.”

M: Cleo appears at mother Artifice’s elbow in an instant. 

S: (Cleo) “Shh! Felix might hear you!” 

X: (Mother Artifice) “IS NOT THE PURPOSE OF THESE SECRETS TO BE REVEALED?” 

S: (Cleo) “Well, yes… but it’s about deception and intrigue. You have to let the story unfold naturally. Please don’t just say everything that’s on your dossier! I worked really hard on this.”

X: (Mother Artifice) “DO YOU NOT DESIRE FOR IT TO BE KNOWN THAT THE DAZZLING DUCHESS HAS NOT TRULY DISAPPEARED AT ALL, BUT IN FACT HAS BEEN TRANSFORMED INTO OMELET THE CAT, HERE UNDER OUR VERY NOSES THIS ENTIRE TIME?” 

S: (Cleo) “Artifice!! Shush! That’s, like, the ultimate reveal of the entire game! How the heck did you even–? Don’t tell anyone you figured it out already, please!!”

X: (Mother Artifice) “VERY WELL, I CAN WITHHOLD, BUT I WILL NOT LIE, FOR I DO NOT LIE ABOUT THINGS.” 

S: (Cleo) [sighs] “I guess that will have to be fine. Thank you, Mother. Sorry. I…I appreciate it.” 

X: And with that, Cleo separates from Artifice to check in with Dot.

S: They and Micky are getting along nicely, as predicted – two wallflowers sitting in companionable silence on the periphery of the party, taking notes on their character sheets.

M: Wow, maybe this pairing actually worked out for the best! Micky gets up to go visit Everett for a moment, so Cleo pops down in the empty seat beside Dot. 

X: The Foldlight glows and pulses in the dim red-lit chamber of the atrium, a moody scene for the Duchess’s disappearance. 

S: Cleo’s natural bioluminescence stands out all the more in these dim environs. (Cleo) “Hey, Spymaster! How’s it going? I tried to give you a character where you wouldn’t have to talk too much. I hope the noise level is okay for you. Getting along with Micky the Puzzlekeeper? I hope people are having fun.”

X: The Granddaughter peruses their dossier of materials with calm attentiveness. They seem very, very serene. Obviously, they always seem quite serene, but there’s just something about them today. They’re really just kinda next-level right now. Even Cleo can sense it. 

S: Especially Cleo. With her intense attention to detail, she’s starting to be able to tell the subtle distinctions in the Granddaughter’s various shades of calm.

X: Why, could this be, could it be that Dot is having…fun? Is that, is this what fun looks like? 

S: Well, let’s not go that far. (Cleo) “You seem like you might be in an extra-good mood or something! What’s going on?” 

X: The Granddaughter looks up from their reading. (Dot) “The darkness of the Fold is where I have spent my entire life, so, for the first time on this journey…” They gesture to the absolute darkness of the atrium window with a gloved hand. “…I almost feel at home.”

S: (Cleo) “That makes sense.”

X: They look again to their dossier. (Dot) “Cleo, the care and attention that you have put into this event is very evident.”

S: (Cleo) “What?”

X: (Dot) “The crew seem more at ease than they have for many days.” 

S: Cleo tucks an errant tendril of her hair behind her ear. 

X: (Dot) “Ascertaining what people need is not simple. You told me that you do not have a gift, but…” The Granddaughter waves to the game in session. “It appears that you do.”

S: In the dim redness, the degree of Cleo’s blush cannot really be seen clearly… but it’s there. (Cleo) “Wow, thanks. That, um… that means a lot. You know, what little I can do, I try to do well. Thanks.” 

M: Merlin takes a break from LARPing and his teletheric tinkering to heave a bit of a sigh and look again out the window at the increasingly sludge-like murkiness passing by outside. 

S: The Granddaughter is unique in their reaction to this environment. Most people are not particularly calmed or enthused, and Merlin is honestly quite sick of it. 

M: (Merlin) “What I’d give for a non-imaginary view,” he mutters. 

X: Cleo overhears this. She misses nothing. 

S: A hostess must constantly circulate. (Cleo) “Well, Merlin, if you’re serious about that, you could try on my…pink unglasses.” 

X: She produces them from a little clutch she’s carrying with her here,

S: holding them with a slightly nervous respect. (Cleo) “I’m working on a little scientific hypothesis of my own. It seems like whenever people put these glasses on, they see incredible things – usually kind of crazy things that kind of derail the whole voyage, to be honest. The oasis, the, the thing in the Firmament… But I’m trying not to get too superstitious about them. Maybe it’s time to dust them off again.” 

M: (Merlin) “Hmm. If your glasses prompt scientific discovery, then I must try them, Cleophee Guilemoth. I’m so bored of seeing nothing but darkness, I’ll try anything.” 

S: (Cleo) [giggles] “There you go, that’s the spirit. That sounds like something the Enigmatical Wizard would say!”

X: And with that, Cleo hands her pink heart-shaped unglasses to Merlin Vot.

M: He slides them onto his nose, making a bit of a show of his eyes widening in surprise. (Merlin) “By the heights, what’s that?!” 

S: (Cleo) “Oh shit, no! What??” 

M: He lowers the glasses and winks at Cleo over the top of the heart-shaped rims. (Merlin) [chuckles] “Only kidding.” 

S: (Cleo) “Merlin!! You really had me going there! You’re so mean!” But she laughs in relief as Merlin slides the glasses back up his nose, smiling smugly. 

M: (Merlin) “Cleophee Guilemoth, your glasses may not cause anything to happen, but YOU have certainly caused an entertaining diversion on what would otherwise be another dull, uneventful day slogging downward through the Fold. Thank you.” 

S: And Cleo, pleased as punch, offers Merlin a little curtsy as a gigantic lidless staring humanoid face larger than the entire Ship collides with the window directly beside her.