polylogs | Got the morbs.

Entry tags:

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

Roxy looks at him, confused. "What? No, I don't have a bathtub and I'm not loaded. But I figured I might blend in enough to get us into one of these fancy manors and if that doesn't work you can just throw the old psychic wamma jamma on em to make them leave us alone long enough for us to both have a bath."

"Oh. Yeah. Ok that makes sense..." he deflates a little, just glad to know he didn't get screwed by the luck of the draw.

"Have you practiced this? Like do you have in with some of these people?" He asks, weirdly reluctant about a plot that would typically be right up his alley. "I know I could just get in their heads. And I will! I will," he promises. "If it comes to that. No prob. I got it. But uh. I'm just wondering because I've been like. You know. Trying to avoid, like, casual mind control. Or just like. You know. Cutting back."

She pauses and lifts an eyebrow at him, smiling a little bit. "You're cutting back on mind control? I thought you were all about it?"

"I mean that's cool, lots of respect and whatever." She says after a beat and then smiles. "And of course I don't have an in with these people, have you heard how I talk? Me and Kyle got kicked out of the art gallery yesterday because I said penis too much."

"I am all about it. It's literally a huge part of my whole personality," he gripes, already sounding tired about this little goal he's put upon himself. "But you know. I'm just trying to be like... I dunno. Less non-consensual with my powers. I guess."

He snorts at that confession. It's not exactly a difficult thing to believe. "This little idea of yours is starting to sound like it involved me from the get go. I'm touched. Kyle did say you liked me. So. I guess it's not totally mind control to just like. Make them hear and see us differently. Do you have a particular place picked out?"

"Hey that's okay, we can always just crawl in through a window instead." She suggests with a grin and gives his arm a little squeeze.

"And of course I like you Pinkie, you're fun." She says as if there should have never been any doubt. "And I was thinking this place up on the corner, it looks super fancy and actually pretty clean."

He narrows his eyes at her like she just asked him to eat at Applebees. "Do I look like Spider Man to you? I do not crawl through windows to get what I need." So clear this little effort to refrain from unchecked use of his powers upon unwitting locals has its limits.

"I like it," he says looking up at that big manor with a glimmer in his eye. "Is it a house or a fucking hotel? Is it all owned by one stupid rich family or what?" He looks like he knows all his weirdly specific questions are starting to add up. "I'm in the market for a more permanent home in this neighbourhood."

"Slide, jump, cartwheel through windows, whaaatever. You know what I mean." She says with an eyeroll.

"I'm pretty sure it's a house and belongs to some old rich dude."

"Let's try the front door first," he suggests. "Maybe he's interested in selling."

"Okay!" She says happily and continues to walk with her arm linked through his. "So! This island, kind of sucks in comparison to the mall huhn?"

"I never thought'd be wanting for a multi-stall bathroom," he grumbles, looking around the meandering little pathway that takes them to this house. A wash of pink energy passes over them, painting them in a new light. Roxy's outfit doesn't change much, if at all, but the rest of them tidies up a bit. their faces and grooming shifting to meet the times.

He raises his hand to knock and holds a moment. "There's no way this is going to work. But we're going to pay him out for this place. That's like... not exactly stealing," he decides.

Roxy nods obediently, not offended in the least that Quentin has kind of taken over her idea. She's never been great at leading so she's happy to follow his lead, he's obviously smarter than her and has powers better suited for this.

"Gotcha."

Quentin rarely notices when his leadership isn't wanted until he's been thoroughly put in his place. In fact he's apt to figure if anyone wanted him involved in the first place it's to put his particular skills to use.

Just how much he knows what he's doing is a tough at to sell though when they're waiting quietly for someone to notice them out here.

"How do you even hear someone at your door in a house this big without a door bell?" he asks. "Ah fuck, they've probably got help right? How do you tell if it's the help or the owner of—"

The door swings open just as he's asking that question and Quentin whirls around realize they should have determined that sooner. He's definitely not going to be able do this without snooping around in some heads. Oops.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. We're looking for uhm. Mister. Wilton," he says plucking the name from the other man's head. "I'm his nephew. This is his niece."

Edited 2022-01-17 21:41 (UTC)

Roxy opens her mouth to add to the conversation but then remembers that her brash way of talking is pretty much what got her and Kyle thrown out of the art gallery, real ladies of this time period are well spoken or quietly bashful, so she hurriedly tries to remember every period drama and movie she's seen to figure out how to act. In the end she drops a curtsey and murmurs demurely when Quentin introduces her.

"He's out. Momentarily," the man looks a little skeptical, but nevertheless interested in being polite to potential family. "I don't suspect he'll be long, if you're intent on waiting." He steps back from then door a bit to invite them into the sitting room. "Allow me to take your coat. A drink for either you? M'am? Tea?"

Quentin looks distinctly like he expected more resistance, but he follows along while he's invited in.

"Yeah, ok sure. Uh I mean. That would be uh... delightful?" He gives Roxy a wide eyed look.That stammering earns them a strange glance but as promise the help leaves them to put up their coats.

"Fuck," he whirls around to Roxy the moment they're alone. Weirdly, he looks a little guilty about this. "Did that sound more Englishy?? I can't do the accent. How much do you think I have to push a whole madeup delusion into this guys head?? I was trying to avoid a complete brainwashing here! Ughh, be honest, is this more or less terrible than just a straight up B&E??"

Edited 2022-01-18 01:24 (UTC)

Roxy blinks in surprise when Quentin suddenly starts to panic and she puts her hands on his shoulders, "Woah woah woah calm down Pinkie! You sound fine, don't worry. You won't have to do a complete brainwashing! You said you were going to try and buy this place right? Do you have that much money? Because if not, let's just leave. I want a bubble bath but not bad enough for you to break your brain over!"

"I was! I am! I do!" he hisses. Constantly glancing over her shoulder so long as their host is missing. "I have money! Like a pretty good lot of money. But also I don't, like just off the top of my head, know what a fair let alone impressive price for a fucking manor is in 18-whateverthefuck!"

He grinds the heels of his palms into his eyesockets as if he could clear the fog in his brain by rubbing his eyes. "Grragh," he huffs trying to calm himself down. "I should have done more homework. I just thought... Gawd, I've been trying not to just B&E people's brains or homes, you know? Because I swear to god for some people this stupid bracelet changes color every time they say God Bless You when someone sneezes but for me it only goes from bad to worse and shit like this is probably why!"

Roxy glances down at her bracelet, something she honestly hasn't even really looked at since arriving, and then back up to Quentin who seems for once to be having a moral freak out about something.

"Let's just forget it okay?" She says and pulls on his arm to follow her back towards the front door, "This isn't worth it okay? I'll just find a way to have a bubble bath another way..."

"Oh I'm so sorry, would you two like to freshen up before Master Wilton arrives home?" A voice asks and Roxy whirls around in time to see that the doorman or whatever he is has returned.

"I...uh...yes please?" She says and the man smiles.

"Of course, it will just take a few moments to prepare. Please sit, rest, while I do so." He says with a nod and then leaves the room again.

"No!" he jumps and digs in his heels when she pulls him. "I made a promise for this! I dug up all those moldy old corpses for this! We all want a fucking hot shower! I just haven't done the ethical arithmetic here!" he says, rubbing at his forehead like he's trying to do just that right now and decide if this is going to take his bracelet down a notch or not.

"It's not wrong right? If we pay? If we're doing it to help out a bunch of people? You, me, Kyle, Carter. Whoever! It's like, like taking from the rich to give to the poor— Robin Hood is the good guy right?"

His mouth snaps shut when the help comes back and he's thankful Roxy was listening enough to form an answer.

"A couple little lies and one real paycheque. That's not enough to take me down a whole rank is it? It's just... someone pointed out to me. They've never met a red."

Edited 2022-01-19 04:12 (UTC)

"You dug up corpses? Ew." She says, which is not helpful but whatever, that's gross Quentin. Once the help has left the room she puts a hand on Quentin's and gives it a little squeeze.

"A red? You mean your bracelet thing? What color is it right now?"

"Don't ew me, they pay top dollar for bodies."

"Orange," he says, offering out his wrist. "It flickered once."

"It flickered to red? When was that? What happened to make it do that?"

"Back on Carnival Island," he says. "I got into it with Carter after he attacked me. Nothing changed after. But then I realized I've never seen anyone just. You know. Walking around with a red one. Have you?"

She shakes her head, glancing down at hers which seems to have stayed a solid green since arriving.

"Not that I know of, but then again I don't really go around looking at other people's." She pauses and furrows her brows, "Carter attacked you though? That doesn't sound like him."

"I do," he says shamelessly. He loves to know how he stacks up. "I think something happens to the reds."

"Yeah, I mean. He was younger. The carousel did something to him. Made him angry and pre-pubescent. Things got crazy for a bit but we're cool now."

Something happens to the reds...
The words send an ominous shiver down her spine and Roxy shakes her head, "Okay well then fuck it. No. I'm not letting your color change or whatever. Even if there's a slight chance of that happening."

"Let's just leave. Or I dunno, pay off the butler guy to let us use the bath?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject