Here are some transcript snippets to demonstrate how these new messages might appear in context. New text in bold.
When meeting Atlantida for the first time:
Atlantida lowers the rifle, surprised. “Fused,” she says. “Isn’t that interesting. And so recently, too. If the gel rifle won’t separate you, nothing will.” She smiles, not warmly. “Pity. You would have been easier to deal with separately. Cold Storage for Andra, house arrest for Alex.”
Fused? We should be two pieces by now. Maybe she has an explanation? But you seem to be focused on her gun hand. How can you be so calm?
You apply a great deal of pressure to the levers of the trap and finally manage to get the jaws open.
"Did you really expect me to walk into that?" Atlantida asks, eyebrows raised.
Atlantida smiles with half a mouth. “You’ve arrived on a difficult day. In the ordinary course of things, I keep things quiet: the spirit of democracy, but none of the sordid wrangling and bribes and corruption and compromise. It’s only when the spirit of the island itself is threatened, that we have to resort to such extreme measures.”
You could ask whether the protesters feel the same way.
When the guards arrive, and the player sets the trap in Surveillance Room:
You apply a great deal of pressure to the levers of the trap and finally manage to get the jaws open. You shudder to think of the consequences should somebody step into it.
Atlantida accompanies us, close on our heels in the narrow space.
Tunnel through Chalk
Atlantida comes along with us.
Atlantida stands nearby, urging us to hurry out via the Private Solarium.
The metal portcullis guards the way back. It is currently raised a few feet by a jack. From the pulley above the portcullis hangs a counter.
There are a stack of files and a rubber stamp on the inlaid desk.
Air and sunlight stream in from the east.
Someone is coming into the workshop upstairs. There’s at most a few seconds before they’ll be down the tunnel.
"What’s this?" you hear somebody say from the general direction of the surveillance room. Then there is a loud snap. We flinch, but there is no blood-curling scream. “We’re lucky nobody stepped into that” a male voice says, followed by some brief relieved laughter.
When the guards arrive, and the player has set the trap in Personal Apartment:
The guards arrive. The first one to enter deftly stops before the trap, and then proceeds to spring it with her rifle. You are captured and taken away for interrogation, and it’s some time before Atlantida is able to arrange for our release.
On Abandoned Beach:
> set trap
We apply a great deal of pressure to the levers of the trap and finally manage to get the jaws open.
> wave d-remover at board
We run our thumb over the dial, setting the device to a D-remover. With a distinct whiff of sweaty animal, the board turns into a boar. In the old days they used to hunt these animals, and I can understand the impulse. It’s like a pig, but even uglier and bristlier, with long dangerous-looking tusky teeth coming out of both its top and bottom jaws.
The boar gives us a very nasty kind of look, and then — without any provocation, I’m sure — starts running right at us, nimbly avoiding the trap.
>wave k-remover at rock
We reset the device to k. With a distinct whiff of sweaty animal, the rock turns into a roc. The bird is enormous. Brock is a tall man, but not nearly this tall. Its eyes are bright and (if we are not reading too much in) ironically clever; its plumage a little like an eagle’s, if an eagle were made many times larger and feathered in a kind of sleek, luminous black.
The boar stops abruptly at the sight of the roc.
The roc is too awkward for us to carry, and half-falls, half-jumps to the ground.
The boar looks at us unpleasantly, but the roc flaps it wings and steps between us and the boar.
The roc looks sharply at the boulders.
The roc is pacing back and forth in front of the boar, which squeals in fear.
The boar takes a tentative step towards us, but one stern look from the roc makes it turn on the spot.
>wave q-remover at squid
We reset the device to q. With a distinct whiff of sweaty animal, the squid turns into a suid. A suid is any kind of pig; this one is a sizable domestic sow, as it turns out.
The boar seems to forget all about us and the roc, as the pleasing scent of the suid attracts it instead.
So what is the problem? Well, I have to assume that some of these do feel off, as they are written by me and not Emily Short. Also, I’d like to know what people think about adding things like this, whether it is a good idea in the first place.