polylogs | Carcosa, pt. 2

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Carcosa, pt. 2

✖ Carcosa

Ⅰ. CARCOSA
You Are Still Here.

Another month, and you’re still in the city of Carcosa! Isn’t that just wonderful?

You still have access to the city’s temple and the High Temple.

The side effects you may have suffered from throughout the month of May are now at an end - if you had a pesky mask glued to your face the whole time it will now fall off. You might need a little moisturizer, but otherwise you’ll be just fine.

You could sit around inside the relative safety of the temples, of course, but why not get out there and explore the city some more? Come on, grumpypants!

Ⅱ. SPEAK EASY
CW: Optional alcohol consumption.

What kind of pet shop is filled with rambunctious yahoos and hot jazz music at 1 AM? That's right - the best damn pet shop in town! Sidle up to the back door of Curly's Pet Shop and a panel will open enough to reveal a pair of eyes. "What's the password?" you'll be asked. Whatever word first comes to your mind, well, that apparently is correct because you're let in at once.

The front of the building definitely does indeed house fish and birds and kittens, but the back room is definitely not a good place to find a new animal companion; you find yourself in a crowded little room with low lighting and a small bar crammed into one corner. There's seats and some tables, and most importantly there's a band playing jazz music across from the bar.

Why not take a seat and have a drink? It's probably not paint thinner. Probably. Maybe you'll spot some of your fellow Travelers and you can sit and have a chat. Make a new friend who can hold your hair back if you party too hard.

And you better hope that the place doesn’t get raided!

Notes:
1. The drinks are all era-appropriate - you’re not getting Redbull with vodka here - and even if your character has non-human physiology they will work the same as they would on a baseline human. That’s right, your magic or your healing-factor or your vampire blood is no match for these Gin Rickeys!

2. If Curly’s does get raided while you’re there, you can run and hide or choose to engage with the police, who are armed and not too shy about opening fire if you go on the offensive. As with the rest of the regular residents of Carcosa, the officers are human and can be killed. Killing them may affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation. (Is it beneficial to personal growth to kill in order to save someone else, for example? You tell me!)

3. Did you want a pet from the front of the building? Well, just remember that baby turtles and alligators might SEEM like a good idea, but they grow up! Also any animal you take will not travel with you to the next island. So sorry.

Ⅲ. EXPRESSIONISM YOURSELF
CW: Optional paranoia, hallucinations.
If you wander the streets at night, you may find yourself getting turned around. You'll find that the streets have lost their many lights, and the beautiful and delicate art deco architecture has given way to something much more stark and heavy. The buildings are block-like, but they curve in exaggerated ways that hurt the eye if looked at too long. All are in blacks and whites and greys. Nothing looks quite real, but you can walk along just fine. Probably better not to go off alone, though.

Periodically you will encounter that pesky sign of some sort painted on the walls. If you follow the sigils, you will eventually be led to a long staircase that winds down and down until it finally terminates in a large white room lit by a few electric lanterns. There's black paint there, with brushes. Maybe you're feeling creative?

Notes:
1. You’re pretty sick of this stupid sigil, aren’t you? In fact, you consider yourself QUITE the detective and have been searching after its meaning! Or maybe you played Call of Cthulhu a lot in college, you nerd!

Painting the sigil on the wall will cause you to feel disoriented and paranoid until you leave the white room. From that point on you can discover a copy of a play entitled The King In Yellow anywhere in the city you choose. Reading the first act of the play has no effect on you, however if you choose to read beyond the first line of the second act you will spend the rest of the month suffering from periodic hallucinations, often of a tall man in a pallid mask.

2. While there is no compulsion to paint, choosing to work out any of your character’s issues through art therapy can be reflected in your Scrywatch colour if it is significant enough.

Ⅳ. AS FAR BACK AS I CAN REMEMBER, I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE A GANGSTER
CW: Optional gun violence, injury.
Art? Theatre? Music? BAH! Boring!

Maybe your tastes are a little more on the dangerous side? Whatever this island may be, it seems to offer plenty of opportunities to get into the seedy underbelly. Maybe you feel the need to steal a car, rob a bank, transport some illegal hooch for a smiling fellow in a yellow fedora. Grab your tommy guns, kids, it's time to outrun the Feds!

Naturally, you could wind up injured having all of this fun, but surely you could get some help from your fellow Travelers, either directly or by having them haul you to some sort of underground doctor. These doctors do exist, although it might take a while to get referred to one by a local.

You might also find yourself under arrest and stuck in an old-timey jail cell for a month. What fun!

Notes:
1. As was stated in the first prompt, the regular residents of Carcosa are normal humans. Killing them is possible and may affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation. Any weapons you find are era-appropriate.

2. You can break out of jail if you’re resourceful enough.

3. The underground doctors aren’t working in a real hospital for a reason. In fact, some of them might be less doctors and more, well. Vets.

You still jamming to that Carcosa playlist?

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( Again, that comes as a surprise. She invited it, she supposes, but didn't imagine he'd make such an offer right now.

It really isn't proper behaviour. That's the first thought. She shouldn't have encouraged it. But then, she didn't think he'd take it as seriously as he apparently is. That it would just be one of those meaningless ideas people bounce around without it ever coming to fruition.

The sad truth is that she wants to make friends. To smile and laugh and have fun again. To be part of the world. Even if this world isn't the world she knows.

Hasn't she betrayed Elijah enough already? Or does it even matter anymore?

Those thoughts are too much to consider. So she sets them aside and smiles. Stands up and gently returns the rabbit to its enclosure with the quiet promise that she'll come back to give more fuss.

Then she goes back to Carter, expression uncertain yet intrigued. )

Okay. How do we do this?

( The enthusiasm presents zero problems for Chloe. On the contrary, she's delighted to see it. Not to mention that her own zest is able to come more freely to the fore with the help of liquid courage. )

Of course for you! It really is the very least I could do.

( His question is answered with a megawatt smile and her taking a seat. He even requested her to join him - how lovely! What a truly nice man and, without the looming threat of zombies, no doubt he's entertaining company as well. Though he was pretty funny with the looming threat of zombies.

She does notice the kitten chomping on his finger and takes the liberty of scooping up the little fluffball. )

Oh no no no, let's not bite, hmmm? Treat Anders nicely, please.

( She keeps hold of the kitten to prevent any further mischievous antics. And because it's a kitten. )

You seem to have your hands full with them. Liberated from the pet shop, I take it?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I should have let you know I was here instead of creeping up on you. I'm sorry.

( Apologies flow freely though after the masquerade, she's less concerned with poking at the Deviant Hunter and more so with adding to Connor's fears.

She's an idiot, really. One who never knows when to leave well enough alone. His hasty exit before should have made things quite clear. To pursue is a selfish act, no matter how much she might claim good intentions or dress it up as being for his sake. Who would want to be confronted by the thing that may very well have given birth to some of those fears? )

It's alright. We can both look, if you don't mind that? Or I can leave you to enjoy them.

( Her tone says the choice is his, and that she understands if he doesn't want her anywhere near him. After all, why should she take any kind of offence when she is the offensive thing here?

Acutely aware of the gaze, she lightly clasps her hands behind her back and diverts her gaze down to the floor. No threat here. Just a foolish android. )

So first I just need to judge how heavy you are, so I'm just going to pick you up for a second like a bride.

(He doesn't think she will be very heavy but he also doesn't want to assume anything, especially not on this bizarre island, so once he has explained and she looks prepared he stands next to her and then sweeps her easily up into his arms. He does a small spin with her in his arms and then places her back on the ground, smiling.)

Easy peasy.

Kyle follows, scowling at literally everything.

"What the fuck did you DO, dude?!" Kyle hisses at Carter. "Sleep with somebody's wife?!"

( The apprehension gives way to giggling at the spin. It's... weird. How easy he - and others - have been to get along with is weird. She's almost forgotten how interaction with people can be easy.

Though none of these people know her very well. Or have had to live with her. Anyone can seem pleasant enough in small doses. )

Dirty Dancing lifts aside, that spin was quite impressive. I was a little nervous I might be heavier than you thought and I'd make your arms go all noodle-y.

( And there's another little laugh. )

Don't worry, it takes a lot more than that to make my arms go noodle-y.

(Which is a true statement, he isn't a big guy and he won't ever brag about his body but he does put in a lot of effort to be healthy and fit.)

Quick question before we try another lift, do you know how to engage your core muscles?

Oh, I didn't mean to imply that you aren't strong or capable. It was just a silly comment.

( One he seems to have taken perfectly well but there's always a wariness that eventually she'll say something.

The question isn't as simple as it should be. She gives a simple answer anyway.)

I'm sure I can do whatever you need me to do.

( While not built specifically for speed, endurance or feats of athleticism, she has a wide range of motion nonetheless and high sense of proprioception. )

(He smiles at her, wondering briefly why she seems so quick to explain or apologize every time she thinks she may have upset him.)

Okay great, we can try a simple ballet lift then. I'll stand behind you and I'll have my hands on your waist, when I say go I need you to bend at the knees and sort of push up off the ground. If you can, lock your core muscles and try to stay as still as possible.
Make sense?

( Chloe has seen a few ballet performances and so has enough of a reference to map out the necessary movements. Staying still shouldn't pose too much of an issue. )

Okay. I'm ready when you are.

[ There are worse things, worse places they could be, Jack is intimately aware--the cell is clean(ish), he has company that isn't a mouse, and he can at least see Anne. He drops his hand from where he'd been reaching but keeps one hand at the bars, fingers curling around the thick metal as he leans.

'Ain't no point,' she says, and she's right, but he'll be fucked if he can't try. He's used to seeing Anne in dangerous positions--often more than he himself is in--but it doesn't mean he has to like it.

Rackham's reminded that there are other people here that aren't himself and his companion when they both say his name almost simultaneously, and he blinks before looking them over. One he recognizes, across the way with Anne--his brow quirks as a hello--and the other he looks over at, brow nestling back onto his features only to furrow. ]

Pleasure to meet you. [ Pleasure to hear my name said like that, more like. ] Shit circumstances, however--it appears that the speakeasy known as Curly's has effectively been assailed. [ His hand comes up to his hairline, and when he feels the familiar wetness of blood, he winces. Great. Just what he needed. ]

To whom do I owe the pleasure? [ He's looking at Sam expectantly. ]

(Carter gives her an encouraging smile and then stands behind her, placing his hands on her waist, making sure to not hit the lower section of her ribs.)

Okay. One, two, go.

(He feels her weight shift down and he moves with her, feeling for the moment when she pushes off the ground. The second he can tell she's jumped he locks his arms and helps lift her up high, it isn't a horizontal lift but he holds her suspended vertical in the air for as long as he can before gently lowering back to the ground.)

Very nice!

"I didn't do anything!" Carter hisses back, casting a wary glance at the huge man following behind them.

"All I've done tonight is play music and drink!"

They are hustled through another door into a tiny room where a group of men in suits are seated around a card table. The woman in the black dress flounces over to the table, fluttering her eyes at a few of the men who grunt in response.

"Here you go Eddie! See, I told ya I saw Jimmy out there." She says to a stout looking man with a pencil mustache.

( In the air, she remains focused. The last thing she wants to do is risk hurting Carter with a false move. She feels secure enough in his hold so all she has to do is play her part and not send them crashing to the ground. Despite her concerns, Chloe is balanced and quite poised.

Once she's got both feet on the ground, she quickly turns to him with a delighted smile. )

Look at that - we did it! Well, you did it, really. Are you a dancer as well as a musician?

If Kyle knows anything about the 1920s... it's not much. But these gentlemen sure look like what old-timey gangsters in movies look like. And 'Eddie' seems like a mafia name to him.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," Kyle says, raising both hands in a placating gesture. "Ma'am, have you maybe been drinking a lot tonight?"

[It's a fact, Saxsice is an affront to grammar.

She shrugs, moving to examine a tank of exotic fish.] Some people do, yeah. Other people eat them. Their eggs and meat and stuff. [In the same breath:] Think they'd notice if I ate one'a these?

Thanks. Made it myself. [Obviously, since it's...not a real name. Saxsice doesn't elaborate, moving on instead to shaking her head.]

Shame's for sinners n' priests, darlin'. Only thing you should be worryin' about is the headache you're gonna have tomorrow if you've never gotten drunk before. [She offers a smile, sipping easily at her own glass, the liquor going down smooth as water.] Hangover's are nobody's friends. But you aren't embarrassin' yourself, if that's what you're worried about.

[A frown. That skull was clearly part of someone's sorcery... Probably not real either. He avoided it, too.]

...I suppose you're right. It's worth confirming.

[The idea of eating a chocobo... actually weirds him out a little. People don't do that.

Fish are another matter. Except... these fish? Really, she thinks pet store fish are going to be good eating?]

...possibly not, but why would you want to?

The details of her expressions blend into the feature of her face - striking cheekbones, sure, but her nose blurs and he smiles at the momentary image of the resulting line across her face.

But that's neither here nor there. Nor where or bare.

And he laughs at her comment; a lot of people haven't drunk as much as him, he's sure, and it's a little funny, given that usually drinking this much wouldn't normally affect him so.

Yet he does pick up on the fact that she doesn't like it, and he straightens slightly. "Don't have anything you're running away from?" It's bold, but his mind isn't quite keeping up with his tongue. "Ways to fix it a bit, if you're not a fan."

(He grins back at her, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks again.)

I guess so yeah, although I've never done ballet. Just hip hop, modern and uh...tap dancing. Which I know is really dorky.

Carter glances at Kyle and nods, "Yes! A misunderstanding! I'm not Jimmy, I think maybe-" He starts to say but is cut off by the sudden whip crack noise of a fist pounding on the table.
The sound silences the room and the stocky gentleman name Eddie looks up at him.

"Your mouths are moving." He says in a soft voice, "I didn't tell you to talk."

"I'm sorry but-" Carter says and takes a step forward, hoping to plead his case with this man, which turns out to be a mistake because a second later he has been sucker punched in the gut by the huge looming man who brought them back here.

Very thorough. [And crisply decided and to-the-point, which he can appreciate. Christopher Marlowe was doomed at birth to stick out in a crowd, but in terms of presentation, in times past it'd been a matter of conscious choice, not potential ignorance.] I seized upon the right person.

[And on point, too, as assessments go. A wisp of a smile surfaces at Connor's guess as to why he's kept long sleeves, following Connor as he tracks the other's progress. Such attention on his person from a stranger; he ought to be flattered, even from a purely objective standpoint. Mostly, though, he's just glad to feel on the verge of presentable. He wants to explore more of the inner city today, and to that end, had wanted to rekindle some of his sharp, conscious sense of style.

The circling critique has the added effect of giving him a clear view in return, and there comes a point when the Connor's peculiarly adorned doublet (jacket, he's been told) and accent stop being the preeminent quirks about him. They must make space for the small circle of light at his temple to rise to the top of the list.

Well, now.

He picks up the moment of contemplation, lets it run another beat or two, scrutinizing Connor as much as he's being scrutinized.]

That's just the kind of reviewal I was looking for. And if I were to, say, visit what they call the cinema, does the taste run casual or formal?

I don't think it's dorky at all. You're someone of many talents and, in my opinion, you should be proud of all you can do. Though it does beg the question of whether there are any more skills hidden up your sleeve.

( Interesting. But since Saxcise doesn't appear to want to go into any more details, Chloe doesn't pry. Except for the kind of curious look that maybe lasts a beat too long.

Very astute, as that's definitely something she's worried about. She smiles back, reassured by the woman's easy-going demeanour. )

Ah, you sound like you know a thing or two about hangovers. Not that I'm trying to suggest you might drink a lot. Do you have any tips for making the morning after less miserable?

( Most likely, it's an irrelevant question for herself. While she doesn't have any idea what effects the alcohol might have on her system beyond what she's experiencing in the moment, she at least doesn't feel pain. Still. All information is useful information. Who knows what could come in handy on this weird island? )

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Carcosa, pt. 2

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android buddy!!!

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