Carcosa, pt. 2

[polymods]

✖ 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?

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

[neverwither]

( Chloe isn't sure if he's aware he's holding her hand. She won't bring attention to it, lest she embarrass him. Or cause him to panic. Worry. She just keeps her hand steady in his own, allowing him to find whatever it is he may seek in the gesture. Maintaining her focus that way isn't an entirely selfless gesture. It's also a way to stave off the unwanted thoughts that callously pop into her mind.

Elijah has never held her hand. He has taken her hand, kissed her hand, but he has never held it in his own this way.

It's then that his fingers tighten around hers and she suddenly looks to him, like he might have read her mind. Then she looks back to the fish tank just as quickly. Re-centres herself. )

We've all done terrible things. You... The position you were put in was wholly unique. And unfair. I'm not saying you shouldn't feel how you feel but... I think it might be worth looking at what responsibility actually belongs to you.

( It's not to make excuses. It's that pawns in games far larger and beyond themselves can only make so much claim to their actions. Particularly when said pawns are programmed to be whatever piece they should be. And in Connor's case, it was all twisted and perverse. Not only was the rug pulled out from under him but those that did it had woven it in the first place.

Did Elijah have a hand in it? Did he know? Or was it all CyberLife?

An emergency exit. An emergency exit in programs. You never know...

Again she shoves it all aside. Time to stay in the here and now. Connor needs her.

She's needed. )

I can understand the confusion. Without wishing to add to it, I'd wonder if CyberLife's version of deviancy is the same? I know I don't know you very well but... if an outsider's perspective is any use, what I see in you seems real to me.

[lickstheevidence]

[Connor is aware, but he's not calling attention to it. He needs the comfort as much as the support, but he's already admitted to so much today he can't bear the thought of pouring out anymore of his soul.

Elijah seems to have wanted a companion, an assistant, attractive arm candy to show off at social gatherings as a testament to his genius and good taste. A charming hostess to smooth over his social awkwardness with poise and grace and wit. But someone he could truly care about, maybe even love? His test with Connor put paid to that notion, didn't it?]

I knew what I was doing. I was aware the entire time. I believed in my mission, and that deviants couldn't possibly be feeling real emotions, so I thought I was doing them a favor by trying to catch them and return them to Cyberlife. I didn't even believe it when I started to feel things- I pushed them down, and focused on my mission. Even when I began to doubt, I would think that if only I was better, more dedicated, I wouldn't have so many software instabilities. I berated myself for not being the Deviant Hunter that Cyberlife wanted me to be. It didn't even matter in the end- later, my handler only confirmed that Cyberlife created me to deviate. That was their goal- they wanted me to destroy Markus and take over as the leader of the Revolution, deviant but under their control. Tell me now, how can I possibly trust anything anymore? Is anything I do or think or feel real? Where does my responsibility begin- or end?

[It seems he won't stop talking until every last drop of his guilt is pooling at his feet. Maybe if he could look at his life from her perspective, he might understand more of her reasoning, why she wasn't holding his feet to the fire and blaming him for his actions. As it was, the terrible guilt was still threatening to consume him completely.

Elijah had allowed him to save himself with that emergency exit. If he knew of Cyberlife's plans, he seemed to be working against them too- but was that for the sake of androids, or for himself, to retake control of his company?

Connor needs her. He can't do this alone.]

I am Cyberlife's version of deviancy. Did they get it right?

[He squeezes her hand again, but then his fingers loosen and he drops his arms to his sides as his eyes find the floor again. If Cyberlife understood deviancy well enough to make him deviant, then the entire "Deviant Hunter" persona they'd crafted for him was unnecessary. All they really needed him to do was find the deviants, infiltrate their hideout, and kill Markus. He could have done that without the need to hunt and terrorize them. He didn't even need the help of the cops. What was the point?]

[neverwither]

( There's a moment or two of silence as Chloe contemplates his guilty conscience. There's no quick fix, no platitude that can be given to erase the damage that's been done. All she can do is listen, and share her thoughts. Whether they are helpful or not, she can try. )

I can understand why you'd view it that way. Some androids may even prefer not to be deviant. But I think... It shows you had good intentions, Connor. You weren't just catching them for them to be caught. You thought it would help.

( Again, it strikes her that there are significant distinctions to be made. Perhaps they only seem to be a matter of semantics but as far as she's concerned, the nuances speak volumes. )

I... I can also understand those feelings. Pushing things down. We strive to please our humans.

( Another few beats of silence follow. It feels like everything she says are the hollow reassurances she doesn't want them to be. But one must always try. )

Connor... You didn't do what they wanted. I know you must have so many doubts and I'm really not trying to diminish them but... You didn't do what they wanted. They may have created you a certain way but that doesn't mean you haven't grown beyond it.

( Chloe's own experience can attest to growing beyond initial function. Only in Connor's case, it seems to be for the positive. Becoming his own person, making his own decisions. It hasn't made him worse than he was.

Rounding the front of him, Chloe takes both his hands in her own and ducks her head to try and catch his eyes. )

Make your deviancy your own. I know this place is... But CyberLife can't control you here. And... I'll help you, Connor. As much as I can.

[lickstheevidence]

[Having someone to talk to about deviancy and emotions could turn out to be the biggest break he's ever had in his life. Who would he be able to turn to back in Detroit besides Hank? As much as he and Hank had come to understand each other during the short time they'd been working together, could he really help Connor navigate through the complexities of emotional awareness on his own, without the input of other deviant androids who'd already been through it? He hugs himself, much the same way as that night in the church.]

I was stupid, Chloe. I told Markus, and I'll tell you. I let the humans use me. Even after I started having doubts, even after Hank tried to convince me we were on the wrong side, I still argued and insisted that I was right. Why was I so stubborn? I knew they would be taken apart and reset- I said as much to a deviant that I interrogated. He ended up self-destructing to avoid being sent to Cyberlife. Shouldn't that have opened my eyes that something wasn't right? But I kept right on insisting that I needed to accomplish my mission until it was almost too late. If Markus hadn't made me understand-

[He shakes his head, wiping a hand down his face.]

I wasn't even trying to please a human. My handler was an AI program inside my processor, my link to Cyberlife. I wanted so much to please her, but nothing I ever did was enough. If not for Markus, I would have kept at it until I ended up destroying everything- including myself. All to hear my handler tell me that I had done a good job.

[He's back to hugging himself again, shivering in shame. It had been so close, and only Connor was aware of how close. Only Connor could still feel his fingers tightening around the trigger. A couple of tears managed to slip past his lower lids, trailing their way down his cheeks as his voice drops to a whisper.]

The Revolution was balanced on a knife's edge. You have no idea...

[Grow or die, those had been his choices. Of course he chose the selfish route, it just happened to coincide with the right thing.

Worse was a matter of perspective, because at the moment it didn't feel better. Eventually Chloe would be able to bring him around to her way of thinking. Probably.

When she reaches for his hands, he lets her take them, too sick at heart to fight her on it. He's more squirrely about looking at her, but he's listening, and he nods.]

Okay. Yeah. Okay. I'd- that would be good. That would be good.

[His breath catches in a hiccupping laugh and he offers her a watery smile that doesn't reach his eyes.]

Look at me, the big bad Deviant Hunter, the boogeyman of Detroit. How the mighty have fallen.

[neverwither]

Connor, with the information that you had anyone would assume that the android self-destructed due to an unstable state rather than anything to do with CyberLife. Being taken apart and reset could easily seem preferable to being in that sort of state. I don't think it was being stubborn - it was being logical. You had new experiences, such as those with Hank, versus programming installed at conception, and no doubt designed long before.

( It isn't easy to just change. An android is created to accomplish a task. Their being is geared towards that end in all ways. They weren't designed to think for themselves. To question. They were designed to do. )

She mattered to you. It doesn't really matter if she was an AI. The approval mattered to you.

( Because of course it would. Why have a handler that an android wouldn't be driven to please? Her being an AI doesn't fundamentally change the dynamic set up to help ensure android compliance.

The way he hugs himself and shivers breaks her heart. What has been done to him, and others, breaks her heart.

The fact she may have been able to do something, to convince Elijah of something, shatters that broken heart into sharp, stabbing fragments.

She holds his hands more tightly. Is it for him or for herself? Another self-serving act she's dressed up as being oh so kind and oh so caring? )

You're not alone, Connor.

( Maybe that will count for something. Useless as she is, she can at least be a presence.

Where Chloe would often shift her own energy to match his, smile and make a little comment in return, she stays serious. )

I don't think you've fallen. I think you've risen.