polylogs | Got the morbs.

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Got the morbs.

✖ VICTORIA'S SECRET

Ⅰ. ARRIVAL & THE TEMPLE
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
The ferry pulls into port in the evening, when shadows are long and gas lamps burn through a veil of mist. Dozens of other ships are docked as well, with men unloading crates and boxes from their holds. Beyond the wet wood and lapping sound of the ocean, a city looms like a charcoal smudge on a purple sky. The air is smoggy and thick, and the river that flows from the sea into the city smells foul. Walk the cobbled streets and you will find that the city is crowded and filthy, but full of merchants, pubs, and theatres. Vast wealth and extreme poverty exist side by side.

In the center of the sprawling city is a temple with towering gothic spires and huge stained glass windows depicting all manner of beings that might be gods or angels or monsters. You could look for hours and still be finding new figures plucked straight from books of myth and religion. Inside, the main chamber has a grand vaulted ceiling, and dozens of pews line the aisle up to the altar, which is oddly anticlimactic compared to the lavish surroundings: just a plain stone table with a lit oil lamp in the centre. Two hallways branch off on either side of the room: one leads to private baths and a communal kitchen, the other to monastic style chambers with thin beds. Not the most comfortable place to stay, but it’ll do in a pinch!

Alternatively you can venture into the city and find yourself some other lodging - every Traveler has been supplied with some pocket money. Just be careful that it isn’t stolen by some street urchin. Travelers can also find an era-appropriate outfit that will fit them perfectly laid in the first sleeping chamber they visit.

Notes:
1. Unless this is your character’s first island, the High Temple and anything you may have stored there is off-limits this month.

2. Please remember to mark threads appropriately with Content Warnings when necessary.

3. The city greatly resembles Victorian London, and the technology and general way of life is all of that era. Feel free to explore the city! These prompts are a jumping off point - how they affect your character and their development is up to you.

4. Most food is safe to eat, and is consumable by non-human entities. Most. Some of it’s going to be pretty gross or cooked improperly, so be careful.

5. The people in the city are normal humans unless otherwise indicated. Killing them is possible and will affect the colour grading of your Scrywatch depending on the situation.

6. Have fun!

Ⅱ. SEANCE
CW: grief, past trauma.
Perhaps you overhear talk of it at a pub, or maybe you’re handed a small card as you push your way through the crowded city streets. Maybe you just wander in by accident. However it happens, you find yourself being ushered into the parlour of one Miss Mary Price: Spiritualist.

You and several other people are instructed to sit at a round table in a very dark and musty room. The walls are covered in thick black curtains, and maybe you’re the type to suspect that there’s someone hiding behind them somewhere. Once everyone is seated, Mary Price herself enters the room. The lights are all extinguished save for a single candle.

Mary calls out to the spirits. They communicate through a series of knocks, or the movement of a Ouija board. Someone at the table is put in contact with a deceased aunt who reveals the location of a family heirloom. Someone else is able to say goodbye to a son.

Mary Price looks at you with eyes so dark they look black, and asks, “What haunts you?”

Maybe you answer honestly. Maybe you don’t answer at all, but that doesn’t matter because the spirit tapping around the room is more than happy to narc on you and tell the whole room what or who it is that you cannot forget.

You can deny it all you like, but the spirits don’t have a reason to lie. And if you try to mess up the seance, you will spend a month being hounded by an angry poltergeist.

Notes:
1. The spirit can communicate through knocks, the Ouija, actually vocalising through the medium, or via ectoplasm.

2. What haunts your character does not have to be the memory of a dead person. It can be an event - maybe they’ve never gotten over losing that science fair in grade three. It is the feeling of being haunted that is important.

3. If you choose to trash the seance, the spirit will follow you for the rest of the month. It can range from annoying to actually dangerous.

Ⅲ. THE RIPPER
CW: murder, gore, violence.
You’re lost at night. Maybe you were in the pub too late, or maybe you were searching for more illicit fun - weren’t there opium dens around this time? - or maybe you just weren’t keeping an eye on the time. However it happened, you’re on the streets in the dark.

It’s very foggy; you can barely see a foot in front of you. The streetlamps look like dimly burning ghosts and when the odd person passes you they are felt more than seen, just a darker shadow in a world of shifting shades.

Very suddenly you hear a scream - short, and swallowed up quickly by the fog. Still, it’s enough to get you to turn and hurry down a narrow alleyway.

Sprawled on the ground amid a lake of blood is a body. It’s immediately apparent that this person is probably beyond help - their throat has been slashed ear to ear. Your appearance was not expected, however, and you can see that you’ve startled the killer: they’re running down the alley in the opposite direction.

You have a few choices: you can chase the killer and attempt to catch them, you can try to help the victim, you can get the authorities, or you can just walk away.

What will you do?

Notes:
1. The inspiration for this prompt is Jack the Ripper but you do not have to use that case as a basis for your killer.

2. You can get as involved with this as you would like. You can have your character catch the killer in a chase, or form your very own detective squad and hunt them down that way.

3. Naturally, walking away from a potential serial killer might not be great for your Scrywatch grading!

Ⅳ. RESURRECTION MEN
CW: dead bodies, grave robbing.
You’re not entirely clear on how you agreed to this. Maybe it was a barroom bet gone wrong. Maybe you’re broke enough that you need money fast. Or maybe you want to help some wannabe medical students. However it happened, you’re in the cemetery.

And you’ve got a shovel.

Time to rob some graves! You’ve convinced yourself somehow that this isn’t morally reprehensible, and so you and your partner are just going to get down to business! What corpse should you unearth? You feel like a kid in a candy store!

The problem comes once you’ve unearthed the body because it seems terribly familiar. Which is… creepy. Creepier still when it starts talking.

Maybe it’s a family member, or an old friend. Maybe an ex partner. Whoever it is, they immediately start telling your fellow grave robber about some incident from your past that you just. Can’t. Let. Go. Of. And even if you whack it with a shovel it won’t stop. Bad corpse! BAD Corpse!

Which of course is exactly what you have to try and do if you want this chatty Cathy of a corpse to shut the hell up.

Notes:
1. If you do NOT let go of this past event, the corpse will follow you the rest of the night singing Henry the Eighth I am, I am.

Sometimes I can still hear his voice...

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

⭕ I. ART DECADE

Impractical as it is, Chloe's quite fond of the mass of pink and white that forms an outfit. The grime of the city leaves something to be desired, but there are sights to explore. If one looks past those certain elements of the era, all it's rather charming.

Something that catches her attention is a toy shop. Displayed in the window are toys with moving parts; cogs and cams to create simple movement. They're a far cry from the android peering at them now yet she feels the draw of history, her own history, in them. True, more sophisticated forms of automata existed before the time period the island apes but she hasn't seen those in person. As a being with no family tree to speak of, it's something to be near to that from which she could be said to stem from.

A swift trip back to the Temple and she returns to the same spot armed with her sketchbook. Slightly concerned she might get a telling-off for loitering, she goes ahead with her plan of drawing the toys anyway. Brightly coloured figures that bob up and down at the turn of a handle and chickens that peck at the ground are recreated on the page exactly as they present in reality. She doesn't need to be stood there at all using the window display as a reference, really. She just prefers to.

⭕ II. BANG BANG (MY BABY SHOT ME DOWN)
CW: emotional abuse, trauma, gun use

Chloe has never given much thought to ghosts, spiritualism or anything of the sort. By all accounts, it shouldn't exist. But that isn't to say it doesn't, and especially here. She's intrigued enough to venture into the seance. Maybe it's just cold-reading and parlour tricks. Maybe there's something to it. One who never experiences will never know.

Nothing immediately screams trickery. Hmm. Sat around the table, she's drawn into the closure and catharsis others seem to gain from supposed contact with their loved ones. Perhaps tricks or truth don't really matter, if they're getting what they need. It almost makes Chloe feel at ease.

Only those eyes are alarming when they turn to her, as is the question. Without an answer to give, she looks around at the others gathered like they could prompt her. They don't provide anything, but a velvety male voice coming from the medium does.

"What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the Kamski test. It's very simple, you'll see."

Chloe's eyes widen. What in the...? That isn't...

"This really isn't the place for such talk," she says curtly, finishing a thought out loud. "You'll upset these poor people." As if they have any idea of what follows.

Her protest goes unheeded as the voice she knows so well continues.

"Magnificent, isn't it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife. Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither... But what is it really? A piece of plastic imitating a human? Or a living being with a soul... It's up to you to answer that fascinating question..."

Looking down at her lap, Chloe grips her knees. "No." Her voice is low. "Don't do that. Please." Is she she talking to the medium or the voice itself? Your guess is as good as hers.

⭕ III. RED RIGHT HAND
CW: murder, gore, violence

Dark alleys in the night are not somewhere Chloe should be wandering. It's part of the reason she is. So much time doing everything she was told she should and should not and now she has the freedom to do. Her acts of rebellion are small, but they're something. And it's just a little stroll.

She's about to head back to the Temple when the scream pierces the air. Chloe hesitates for a second, then proceeds quickly but cautiously in the direction of the sound. Has someone had an accident? A mugging? Domestic dispute? Possibilities run through her mind.

The sight that greets her was not one of them.

At first she thinks the crumpled body means the poor figure has fallen. Or perhaps that's what she wants to think. The closer she gets and the clearer the scene becomes through the fog, Chloe is brought to a stupefied stop.

Blood. It's all blood. Wet noises and choking noises. And a person running away from and not to it.

A few seconds more and she closes the remaining gap between her and the woman, sinking down to the ground beside her. Cold android logic determines that this woman is about to die. Quickly. There's nothing to be done for such a catastrophic injury.

Scooping the woman into her arms, Chloe holds her for the final seconds. She can't help, can't do anything, no one should have to leave the world alone.

Logic kicks in once again. Practicality. The perpetrator ran, meaning they're still out there. "Police..." she calls weakly. Finding her voice, the cries that follow ring out. "Police! We need help!"

⭕ WILDCARD

[ Want to choose your own adventure? Catch me at

another_thoughts_hat or via PM and we can do a thing! ]

Wandering dark alleys at night is practically a necessity, when you're always on the run, trying to escape discovery, and though that's not the case here, not anymore, Anders falls back on old habits as he explores the city. It's certainly not the nicest place the Ferryman has brought them, but - despite the smell - it does have its interesting facets. And there's plenty around to drink, which is a definite improvement.

Fortunately, he's more interested in sightseeing than imbibing, at the moment, and sober ears catch the sound of a familiar voice in distress. Police means next to nothing to him (though he certainly heard it more than a time or two, in Carcosa), but help is enough to get his feet moving, Ser Pounce-a-Lot jogging along in his wake as he rounds the next turn.

The sight at the end of the next alley over is enough to make him pale, Chloe covered in blood and clinging to - a corpse? Well, hopefully not just yet.

"Chloe!" He bolts toward her, dropping to a knee without concern for the layer of filth that seems to coat every surface of this city, his hands already glowing faintly as he searches for some lingering sign of life. "What happened here?"

Chloe's thanking gods she isn't sure she believes in for the arrival of Anders. She would have welcomed anyone as to not be alone, to have the chance of someone who is better at handling things to be on the scene, but Anders' presence is a stand out for reasons both personal and not.

His question goes unanswered as hurried words tumble out. "You're a healer, aren't you? Is there something you can do?" Magic can do extraordinary things, can't it? Her eyes shine with that hope. She can ignore all the evidence to the contrary and hope Anders' powers can save the woman.

"I can try," Anders replies hastily, already having forgotten his own question, as well. Maker, that's a lot of blood. He would ask how long they've been here, but he doesn't think he has to - the wounded woman is pale and still in Chloe's arms, and the only chance he has of pulling her back from the brink is if she hasn't already fallen over.

Perhaps it's only by virtue of his having not needed to expend much mana for anything, of late, let alone salvaging life-threatening injuries, but as he draws a glowing hand over her still form, he feels just the thinnest, most delicate thread of life remaining. Almost impossible to grasp, but as the force of that magic swells (slowly, though, too much so - and he curses not having a staff with him once more), the ragged wound at her throat begins to knit itself back together.

Chloe watches Anders work his literal magic with a morbid fascination. "You're absolutely incredible," she murmurs, thinking aloud. For all the feats of technology she's seen, they don't really compare to what she's witnessing now. The woman was certainly about to die and he's managed to bind a fatal wound back together.

If she wasn't covered in blood and holding the victim, she'd throw her arms around him.

"We should get her to a hospital..." Moments after making the suggestion, Chloe wrinkles her nose. The medical facilities aren't going to be top-notch. Not by any sort of modern standards, anyway. "Or we could take her somewhere safe? Watch over her? With your magic..." The life of a stranger is a lot to put on him, but she has to ask.

He doesn't feel incredible; this is far from his best work, and it's far from over, if she's to survive. Especially with no potions, no elfroot, no lyrium, no salves or tinctures to help the healing along. He can feel that thin, dwindling thread strengthen, but her life is still very much in the balance.

"Somewhere safe," Anders agrees, as the healing spell dims on his hands, and he looks around the dark alleyway again. No new danger has suddenly presented itself - a relief - but he's too used to worse getting worse. "I can heal her, but I need more time."

"We should try the temple," she suggests. Rightly or wrongly, she has a degree of trust that no harm will reach them there. Although it does raise the question of whether someone who isn't a Traveler will be permitted entry. She can't see why not, but one never knows. It's worth a shot.

Strength being proportional to her frame doesn't stop Chloe from lifting the woman into her arms. Amongst the many gifts being an android has given to her, being outlandishly strong isn't one of them. No matter. They can flag down a taxi carriage. Anders' reserves are better used for healing, not carrying the woman.

"Will there be anything else you'll need? I mean, it must take a toll on you?" Supporting him is the least she can do.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Anders frets, rising to his feet after her. He fidgets, already thinking of helping, but he doesn't want to upset her while she's holding up a woman in a still very fragile state. He's never seen non-Travelers in the temple, either, though, and it isn't even a question in his mind if they'll be allowed. Besides, he really doesn't want to go back there at all.

"There were a handful of empty-looking buildings by the docks. We can find somewhere to hide out there," he suggests, not exactly excited with the idea, though it's certainly a more familiar one. "I don't need much, just time to rest between spells. Unless you're hiding a lyrium potion somewhere."

There's no protest from Chloe; she trusts his judgement more than her own. Levelheaded as she wants to be, her LED constantly spins a frantic yellow. She knows they should keep the woman, and themselves, safe and make this right. What she lacks is the exact means of how to make that happen.

"We should get moving..." A wary glance is cast around them, checking to see that they haven't been joined by the man who committed this atrocious act. She'd been the only one there when she'd interrupted the violence. He could think that a lone woman, preoccupied with tending to his victim, would be easy pickings to silence.

Avoiding jiggling and jerking the woman as much as possible, they start in the direction of the docks. The thought of attracting unwanted attention stops her from yelling out any further for police or taxi carriages or anything else. Maybe it's foolish. She repetitively looks to the woman to check in on her, around them, to Anders.

"I'll keep watch while you rest." She makes sure to sound decisive about it. Should the assailant catch up with them... Well, she'll just have to channel Sephiroth and hope some of his skills (or at least his fighting spirit) have rubbed off on her.

Anders nods, watching the street warily as he keeps pace with her. If it wouldn't endanger the woman in Chloe's arms, he'd simply cast Haste on them both, and they could hurry past all of the wary looks they attract - her covered in blood and carrying an unconscious woman, him exhibiting openly perhaps half the anxiety he actually feels. He definitely wouldn't call her foolish for wanting to draw as little extra attention as possible. They'd be as likely to end up locked up, themselves.

Luckily, no one thinks to try and stop them - or wants to - and the docks seem deserted, at this hour. Except by the rats, of course. Ser Pounce, on his heels, gives them an interested look as they scurry past, and Anders leads them to the first dark, out of the way door one of those empty-looking warehouses affords them. Unlocked, by some minor miracle. "Come on, in here. We need to find somewhere to keep her comfortable."

Chloe | Detroit: Become Human

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