2019 Videogame
Main Game
"Fair warning: This is going to be... weirder than usual."
—Jesse Faden, the new Director of the Federal Bureau of Control, talking to both herself and the player.
<You/We wield the Gun/You. The Board appoints you. Congratulations, Director.>
—The Board, the leaders of the FBC, "congratulating" Jesse after she passes their tests and is given the job of Director.
"You are a worm through time.
The thunder song distorts you.
Happiness comes.
White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye.
Through a mirror, inverted is made right.
Leave your insides by the door.
Push the fingers through the surface into the wet.
You’ve always been the new you.
You want this to be true.
We stand around you while you dream.
You can almost hear our words but you forget.
This happens more and more now.
You gave us the permission in your regulations.
We wait in the stains.
The word that describes this is redacted.
Repeat the word.
The name of the sound.
It resonates in your house.
After the song, time for applause.
We build you till nothing remains.
The egg cracks and the truth will emerge out of you.
You are home.
You remind us of home.
You’ve taken your boss with your boss with you.
All hair must be eaten.
Under the conceptual reality behind this reality you must want these waves to drag you away.
After the song, time for applause.
This cliché is death out of time, breaking the first the second the third the fourth wall, the fifth wall, floor; no floor: you fall!
How do you say “insane”?
Hurts to be happy.
An earworm is a tune you can’t stop humming in a dream: "Baby baby baby, yeah!"
Just plastic.
So safe and nothing to worry about.
Ha ha, funny.
The last egg breaks now.
The hole in your room is a hole in you.
You came and we let you in through the hole in you.
You have always been here, the only child.
A copy of a copy of a copy.
Orange peel.
The picture is you holding the picture.
When you hear this you will know you’re in new you.
You want to listen.
You want to dream.
You want to smile.
You want to hurt.
You don’t want to be."
The thunder song distorts you.
Happiness comes.
White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye.
Through a mirror, inverted is made right.
Leave your insides by the door.
Push the fingers through the surface into the wet.
You’ve always been the new you.
You want this to be true.
We stand around you while you dream.
You can almost hear our words but you forget.
This happens more and more now.
You gave us the permission in your regulations.
We wait in the stains.
The word that describes this is redacted.
Repeat the word.
The name of the sound.
It resonates in your house.
After the song, time for applause.
We build you till nothing remains.
The egg cracks and the truth will emerge out of you.
You are home.
You remind us of home.
You’ve taken your boss with your boss with you.
All hair must be eaten.
Under the conceptual reality behind this reality you must want these waves to drag you away.
After the song, time for applause.
This cliché is death out of time, breaking the first the second the third the fourth wall, the fifth wall, floor; no floor: you fall!
How do you say “insane”?
Hurts to be happy.
An earworm is a tune you can’t stop humming in a dream: "Baby baby baby, yeah!"
Just plastic.
So safe and nothing to worry about.
Ha ha, funny.
The last egg breaks now.
The hole in your room is a hole in you.
You came and we let you in through the hole in you.
You have always been here, the only child.
A copy of a copy of a copy.
Orange peel.
The picture is you holding the picture.
When you hear this you will know you’re in new you.
You want to listen.
You want to dream.
You want to smile.
You want to hurt.
You don’t want to be."
—The Hiss, or to be more accurate, the Madness Mantra of Word-Salad Horror endlessly repeated by any non-hostile FBC personnel infected by The Hiss.
"See, there's no guidebook for what we do here. Everything that happens at the Bureau, including the science, is without precedent."
—Emily Pope to Jesse on the Bureau's research.
"After extensive research and investigation, the Bureau made the building its headquarters on November 13, 1968. The Federal Bureau of Control was never out in the open - this was always an obfuscated, classified, top-secret operation. So imagine our surprise when the building's observation-resistant aspects began, in some unquantifiable way, to affect the Bureau as a whole."
—Dr. Casper Darling, in his presentation on the Oldest House
.
."The only person you should fail is yourself."
—Zachariah Trench, the former Director of the Federal Bureau of Control, offering Jesse some posthumous advice on becoming the new Director.
"I... hope your day has been productive, little plant."
"I wish my leaves were as pretty as yours."
"I wish my leaves were as pretty as yours."
"What's the cause, and what's the effect? Are we the starting point, or just a necessary evil in this? A byproduct, a reflection? A projection? We'll struggle to find the answers to these hard questions... or die trying."
—Dr. Darling
"It's not superstition if it works."
—Frederick Langston to Jesse on using "rituals" to help calm down misbehaving Altered Items within the Panopticon.
<The Former/Dissent is back/not gone. It is Previous/Disappointment and is not part of the Board/Us. We Apologize/Deny All Knowledge for the inconvenience. You will see/face the Former. It is stealing/linking Altered Items. It builds a Competition/Not Us. You must espionage/destroy when possible/inevitable. Do not believe/get hyped about the Former's lies/ads. We provide/offer better Bonus Package/Health Plan. If you leave, you will be sorry/dead and you will never work/exist in this Torn/Cosmic Reality again. Yes.>
—The Board to Jesse after she encounters FORMER yet again, who (as the name suggests) is a "former" member of The Board.
".uoy naht redliw hcum m'I .nedaF esseJ ,olleH"
—esseJ talking to Jesse after the latter goes through the Victorian Mirror Altered Item
"I knew I chose a good assistant."
—Ahti to Jesse.
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
I see a vision risin', dreary
Fadin' in as children play twilight games
In the town called Ordinary
An eye of light reveals a gateway to doomsday
Fadin' in as children play twilight games
In the town called Ordinary
An eye of light reveals a gateway to doomsday
In that projection of reality
Something passes through the stars
Shifting walls
Enter agents of ill fantasy
For evil holds you in its arms
False alarms
Something passes through the stars
Shifting walls
Enter agents of ill fantasy
For evil holds you in its arms
False alarms
.eert ecurps a semoceb elif nelots eht ni dimaryp eht , yldnuoforp ,elbuod gniees ,setats revef neknurd rieht nI
Illusory
Treading on reality
Polaris
In a web of hypocrisy
Treading on reality
Polaris
In a web of hypocrisy
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
Oh, can't you see, see the light is fadin'?
And in the night the demons rage and call your name
No deeper madness than your own makin'
Visions lashing blades of shame
But will you take the blame?
And in the night the demons rage and call your name
No deeper madness than your own makin'
Visions lashing blades of shame
But will you take the blame?
Hissin' noises in the hallway
Bloodshot eyes staring through
What seeds are sown?
Who'll survive the blood-red power play?
Who'll take control?
Whose name will be known?
Bloodshot eyes staring through
What seeds are sown?
Who'll survive the blood-red power play?
Who'll take control?
Whose name will be known?
.91 ,9 ,4 ,81 ,1 ,7 ,91 ,1 .erehw uoy llet lliw dnomaid A
Illusory
Reality's all fallacy
Polaris
In a web of hypocrisy
Reality's all fallacy
Polaris
In a web of hypocrisy
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
TAKE! CONTROL!
I wish I had the wherewithal
To find you when I had the chance
Instead I danced with death in fervour's skin
To find you when I had the chance
Instead I danced with death in fervour's skin
I missed the moment before the fall
To recognize I had a voice
A choice to stop it all from happening
If only I could save you from the pain...
A rising sense of awe and wonder
A might I see has always been deep within me
I can feel my inborn power
I call the shots when it's all finally clear to see
To recognize I had a voice
A choice to stop it all from happening
If only I could save you from the pain...
A rising sense of awe and wonder
A might I see has always been deep within me
I can feel my inborn power
I call the shots when it's all finally clear to see
And so I'm drawn ever deeper
In the Oldest House and all these empty rooms
This vacant, spellbound mystery motel
Where I'm the keeper, where I set the rules
In the Oldest House and all these empty rooms
This vacant, spellbound mystery motel
Where I'm the keeper, where I set the rules
.suovzedner terces a ot uoy ekat ot droc eht dnif ,moor der eht ot no gnihsur dna rats ralop eht no gnidnaL
Potency
Is my new reality
Polaris
Living now inside of me
Is my new reality
Polaris
Living now inside of me
"That... was awesome."
—Jesse (and most likely the player) after completing the Ashtray Maze while listening to the above song.
Nobody knew her name.
But she turned just the same
There was a nock on the door.
A thump on the floor.
And the party turned insane
As she called out her nnnnnaaaaammmmmmmeeeeee.
But she turned just the same
There was a nock on the door.
A thump on the floor.
And the party turned insane
As she called out her nnnnnaaaaammmmmmmeeeeee.
And she walked in looking like dynamite.
She said now come along and boogaloo through the night.
And by the way she's moving well dynamite.
Might she not with all she's got.
She's got the whole town lighting up dynamite.
Nobody quite knowing what to do.
Right or wrong.
But they all know Jesse is dynamite.
They're right!
She said now come along and boogaloo through the night.
And by the way she's moving well dynamite.
Might she not with all she's got.
She's got the whole town lighting up dynamite.
Nobody quite knowing what to do.
Right or wrong.
But they all know Jesse is dynamite.
They're right!
(Jesse!)
—Dr. Casper Darling, "Dynamite"
"Grow brighter. Around one constant, they revolve."
—Polaris - or, to be more precise, the soothing Survival Mantra The Remnant of Polaris recites to Jesse as she's fighting against the Hiss's corruption of her mind.
The Foundation Expansion
"For who among us has touched the foundations of this world and deemed them solid?"
—Dr. Theodore Ash, Jr.
"I've spent a long time contemplating the etchings of the tree and its roots. Did you know this city used to be a forest? I wonder if our Oldest House wore a different face back then, or if it was always here, a 21st century office building since time immemorial? Can a place know the future? Can it change its skin? Can it wander?"
—Dr. Theodore Ash, Jr., while suffering from some mild Sanity Slippage, contemplating the etchings of trees he found littered throughout the Foundation of the Oldest House.
"Soon, you will no longer recognize us or yourself or him or her or them. Family is dead and walls are broken but yellow and red in the eye."
—Helen Marshall upon being possessed by The Hiss and twisted into serving as a Mouth of Sauron for it to taunt Jesse with.
AWE Expansion
"Wake needed a hero. A hero needed a crisis. For the part in the story about the government agency, Wake needed something special. Something to convey an alien force mimicking human intelligence. Something that can't be translated. Translated! Wake channeled Burroughs and Bowie. He cut up sentences and words. 'Orange Peel.' 'You are home.' 'Insane.' He put them in a shoebox. He pulled out the words. Wake created a Dadaist poem. He'd try anything once. Or had he tried this before?"
Langston: It's just nice to have someone to talk to, you know? Ever since I got put in charge of the Panopticon, people treat me different. Like I'm "crazy" for wanting to work with Altered Items. People just don't understand the Altered Items like I do, you know? I don't want to brag, but it does take a very empathetic mind to connect with the Items.
Jesse: "Doesn't want to brag."
Langston: Still, I don't know why people are making it so personal.
Jesse: Right.
Langston: I mean, the teams in Research handle paranatural materials every day, and no thinks they're weird. Well, maybe that's not true, Darling is famous for being a bit out there. But when he’s weird, it’s "charming". Altered Items really aren't that frightening once you get to know them. If you figure out what they like or don't like, you know, what sets them off, then there's nothing to worry about. I guess at the end of the day we're still wild animals scared of our own shadows. We're supposed to be on the same team here, but sometimes it feels like it's every department for themselves, like it's a race and we're all trying to be number one. If it IS a race though, I'd say Darling is a mile ahead of everyone else. He was Trench's golden boy for years, but that relationship has gotten pretty tense, or so I've heard through the grapevine. Not that I spread rumours. Just, you know, people talk. Not me though. I keep my nose to the grind. Too much work to do to focus on those kinds of things. I need to stay focused so I can get my work done and get home to feed Alfred.
Jesse: He’s just going to talk forever, isn’t he?
Langston: Of course, can't always make it home for mealtime, so I have my neighbour check in on Alfred at seven o'clock if I'm not back yet. She’s very nice. Her name is Maria. She's older. She came to New York in The '50s to attend school and has been here ever since. She has a couple kids. Met them at Thanksgiving. Big family. Very nice people. Anyway, she has a key to my apartment and she gives Alfred his dinner if I'm not home. I’m going to have to buy her a nice fruit arrangement as a "thank you" after this. She’s probably going to have to go to the store for more wet food. I'll have to remember to pay her back. Hold on, let me make a note. Pay. Back. Maria. For. Alfred's. Food. Ok. Oh, one more thing. And. Buy. Her. A. Fruit. Arrangement. Alright, done. Are you a cat person? I don't think I ever asked. You seem like one though. You'd like Alfred. He's very proper. Really carries himself well, you know? I named him after my favorite poet. It felt like a good fit. I got Alfred just before Sylvia died, when I was at the… huh, you know, I don't really remember where I got Alfred from. But boy, those two did NOT get along. No, no, no. Sylvia thought she owned the place. Didn't like me getting in her way. Scratched me more than once when I was just trying to move her food bowl. That cat was a real asshole.
Jesse: Wow.
Jesse: That’s kinda harsh.
Langston: I'm realizing now that that language was not entirely, uh, professional. You see, Sylvia didn't tolerate most people. Or animals. Or anything. That's what I meant when I said "asshole". I would never use that word about a person. It was just a, you know, a… Hey! There's a light flashing on the console here. I gotta, uh, check this out. I'll get back to you later."
Jesse: Real smooth, Langston.
Jesse: "Doesn't want to brag."
Langston: Still, I don't know why people are making it so personal.
Jesse: Right.
Langston: I mean, the teams in Research handle paranatural materials every day, and no thinks they're weird. Well, maybe that's not true, Darling is famous for being a bit out there. But when he’s weird, it’s "charming". Altered Items really aren't that frightening once you get to know them. If you figure out what they like or don't like, you know, what sets them off, then there's nothing to worry about. I guess at the end of the day we're still wild animals scared of our own shadows. We're supposed to be on the same team here, but sometimes it feels like it's every department for themselves, like it's a race and we're all trying to be number one. If it IS a race though, I'd say Darling is a mile ahead of everyone else. He was Trench's golden boy for years, but that relationship has gotten pretty tense, or so I've heard through the grapevine. Not that I spread rumours. Just, you know, people talk. Not me though. I keep my nose to the grind. Too much work to do to focus on those kinds of things. I need to stay focused so I can get my work done and get home to feed Alfred.
Jesse: He’s just going to talk forever, isn’t he?
Langston: Of course, can't always make it home for mealtime, so I have my neighbour check in on Alfred at seven o'clock if I'm not back yet. She’s very nice. Her name is Maria. She's older. She came to New York in The '50s to attend school and has been here ever since. She has a couple kids. Met them at Thanksgiving. Big family. Very nice people. Anyway, she has a key to my apartment and she gives Alfred his dinner if I'm not home. I’m going to have to buy her a nice fruit arrangement as a "thank you" after this. She’s probably going to have to go to the store for more wet food. I'll have to remember to pay her back. Hold on, let me make a note. Pay. Back. Maria. For. Alfred's. Food. Ok. Oh, one more thing. And. Buy. Her. A. Fruit. Arrangement. Alright, done. Are you a cat person? I don't think I ever asked. You seem like one though. You'd like Alfred. He's very proper. Really carries himself well, you know? I named him after my favorite poet. It felt like a good fit. I got Alfred just before Sylvia died, when I was at the… huh, you know, I don't really remember where I got Alfred from. But boy, those two did NOT get along. No, no, no. Sylvia thought she owned the place. Didn't like me getting in her way. Scratched me more than once when I was just trying to move her food bowl. That cat was a real asshole.
Jesse: Wow.
Jesse: That’s kinda harsh.
Langston: I'm realizing now that that language was not entirely, uh, professional. You see, Sylvia didn't tolerate most people. Or animals. Or anything. That's what I meant when I said "asshole". I would never use that word about a person. It was just a, you know, a… Hey! There's a light flashing on the console here. I gotta, uh, check this out. I'll get back to you later."
Jesse: Real smooth, Langston.
— When Jesse finishes using the intercom at the top of Active Investigations, and it repeats if she leaves the Sector and reenters the Active Investigations elevator, which is necessary to continue in the area until unlocking another Control Point. Jesse's lines don't play if she's too far away from the intercom.
Fans and Critics
"Prison for the isn't sitting hinged within a schism
Of half-reflected architecture, dark unending prisms
Part objective, part conjecture partnered with tradition
Where the paperwork is worshipped and the rituals are written."
Of half-reflected architecture, dark unending prisms
Part objective, part conjecture partnered with tradition
Where the paperwork is worshipped and the rituals are written."
— The Stupendium, summing up the Oldest House in their song "Slide Into the Void"
"The totality of the game Control takes place in a labyrinthian expanse of concrete and bureaucracy. This building is home to the fictitious government agency "The Federal Bureau of Control," and at first glance appears far more corporate than most haunted locales. But this place isn't called "Brutalist Office #43" or "The Pentagon," it's called "The Oldest House." And once you starting thinking about Control as taking place in a haunted house, things start to click into place.
The Oldest House is a bizarrely elusive building — despite being in the middle of New York, it can only be found by someone specifically looking for it. The Bureau of Control didn't build it, nor do they have the knowledge to recreate it. The Bureau calls the Oldest House a "place of power," a location "acted on by paranatural forces." And in a way, I find this terminology almost... cute. They're assigning words to things they truly can't understand, trying to tie a logic to a place that is, by every definition, illogical. They found a haunted house and set up a government agency in it, but at every turn they're just reminded how little they know about where they've placed themselves.
There is a staggering level of documentation in Control, every phenomena recorded, every quirk of time and space written down. But paradoxically, this volume of data just shows how little the Bureau actually knows. It all just reads as grasping at straws. "We observed this event. It could mean this. Or it could, uhh... not." About halfway through the game you find a man staring at a fridge. He calls out to you, panicked, "I can't look away! Unless someone has eyes on it, it changes!" He's been looking at this fridge for about 24 hours. This is not an agency that's in command of the situation."
The Oldest House is a bizarrely elusive building — despite being in the middle of New York, it can only be found by someone specifically looking for it. The Bureau of Control didn't build it, nor do they have the knowledge to recreate it. The Bureau calls the Oldest House a "place of power," a location "acted on by paranatural forces." And in a way, I find this terminology almost... cute. They're assigning words to things they truly can't understand, trying to tie a logic to a place that is, by every definition, illogical. They found a haunted house and set up a government agency in it, but at every turn they're just reminded how little they know about where they've placed themselves.
There is a staggering level of documentation in Control, every phenomena recorded, every quirk of time and space written down. But paradoxically, this volume of data just shows how little the Bureau actually knows. It all just reads as grasping at straws. "We observed this event. It could mean this. Or it could, uhh... not." About halfway through the game you find a man staring at a fridge. He calls out to you, panicked, "I can't look away! Unless someone has eyes on it, it changes!" He's been looking at this fridge for about 24 hours. This is not an agency that's in command of the situation."
