Got the morbs.

[polymods]

✖ 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

Comments

[quire]

"Oh, no. We ARE great. We're the fucking best together and I'm absolutely insufferable about the whole relationship," he assures.

"That's kind of what's freaking me out, you know? I still don't exactly know what this place wants with us. Or what we're supposed to trust around here. And I don't know what ultimately happens to us, or this little island hopping adventure they've got us on. And I can't stop thinking about like. What if it has enough of us? What happens to us then? Will it split us up just like we were before? What if we don't do whatever the stupid Scrywatch wants? What if it decides we're not the right color? Every time me and Kyle get more comfortable together I feel like maybe we're getting dependant on this amazing thing this place could just cancel on us."

[gravity_grrl]

Roxy nods because Quentin's worries echo some of her own, not that she's let herself really think about them, she's much happier to just shove such thoughts to the back of her head instead of obsess over them like Quentin does.

"I wish I had answers for you darlin, but I don't." She says softly, "And I'd try to tell you to not worry about it but that's kind of impossible for you I'm sure."

Her eyes look into his and she tries to give him a small smile of encouragement, "But something that might help is a reminder that if these islands suddenly decided they were done with us... between you, me, Wade, David, Kyle and Carter, I'm sure we could figure out some way to stay together."

[quire]

He snorts a little. In part because she's making fun of him, and in part because his first response to optimism is always dismissiveness.

"I can shut it off!" he insists. "As an agent of chaos myself, I enjoy a significant amount of unpredictability in my life. Keeps things fresh. But the longer were here. The more we stand to lose.

"What makes you so sure of us anyway?"

[gravity_grrl]

She snorts and tops up her wine as well as his, "Uh because we kick ass that's why."

"Gravity is my bitch, you and Carter are both like super mega mutant telepaths, David and Kyle are both Smarty-pants, and my boyfriend is a super killing machine that does not die. If push comes to shove and something was gonna try and pull us all apart, that's not a list of people I'd want pissed off at me."

[quire]

"Well. Yeah. We are pretty great," he concedes. It's perhaps not as much as bringing him to outright optimism about their odds in a place that's so well managed to hold them captive. But there's certainly no shortage of fire power amongst them.

Maybe he should reconsider their odds.

"Ok. Ok. I'll try to hold out hope for our little rag-tag bunch of misfits," he smiles through his wine glass.

[gravity_grrl]

Roxy grins and pokes his side with her foot playfully, "Thatta boy! Now pass me that soap, I'll get your back if you get mine."

A bottle of wine and much scrubbing later Roxy exits the tub with a happy squeal, her skin is pink and soft and for once she finally feels fully clean. She wobbles a little before grabbing a towel and wrapping herself up in it, grinning at Quentin. She's not drunk but the combination of hot water, a small breakfast and a bottle of wine has certainly made her tipsy.

[quire]

He does as requested, despite getting a little sidetracked by some old timey bath tools along the way. "Look at this scrubby thing. I'm pretty sure the handle's made of ivory."

He snorts when she wobbles and drapes his arms over the edge of the tub, not yet prepared to part with the hot water.

"We're going to have to do this again. As soon as Kyle finds out we scored a free bath he's going to be super jealous."

[gravity_grrl]

"Oh we totally have to do it again, we can have sexy tub times with our boyfriends..." She says and then notices a door across from them that looks like it might lead to the joined bedroom.

"One second, I wanna see if the room through there has any nice perfume." She says and gives him a little wave as she opens the door and walks through. The connected room is dark, heavy curtains are hung up but Roxy immediately identifies it as a bedroom. She takes a few steps further into it, her skin suddenly breaking out in goosebumps but surely that must be from being fresh out of the bath, and nothing more. She has no reason to be afraid....right?

She turns her head and notices something glinting on the far dresser and as she approaches it her body temperature drops even lower and when she gets close enough she gasps, because sitting on the dresser is the long blade that she was threatened with the night before.

"Quentin I-!" She starts to say but it's cut short when a hand suddenly shoots out from the dark and clamps over her mouth.

[quire]

"By the time I get enough corpse cash we'll all be back at the big temple," he grumbles. It's turning into a real kick in the nuts that his first effort at honest work might have been in vain.

While Roxy explores, Quentin climbs out of the tub and ties a towel around his waist. A fluffy spa robe would be nice, he thinks. But in lieu of that he slings on a silky smoking jacket hanging on the nearby garment rack. Only the bougiest bathrooms have garment racks.

"What?" he barks back. Synching the little robe around his waist. "If you're kicking it Jeeves, I swear to God..."

When nothing else follows his paranoia kicks in. A psionic shotgun materializes in his hand but his brain reaches out for her first.

If you're fucking with me in a dusty old mansion probably chockablock with grisly stories about creepy dead little victorian girls...

cw: violence

[gravity_grrl]

Thankfully this time Roxy doesn't have to fight with a huge purple gown and the second she hears her attacker whisper "I've missed you pretty eyes....." She uses her powers to propel her and the man grabbing her against the nearest wall. They hit with a loud crash and thankfully the hand over her mouth falls away.

"Quentin!! Help!" She cries and tries to scramble away.

cw: violence

[quire]

At the sound of the crash Quentin stops asking questions. He flings open the door and trains his weapon on the first thing that moves.

A scrawny dude in a towel and a smoking jacket doesn't exactly strike fear into the heart of anyone, but he's got a lot of confidence for a guy in so few clothes.

"Who the fuck is this dude?!" It's the last question he asks before unloading a round from his gun. The crack it makes it only audible in the mind of its target. So too is the spray of searing pink buckshot that peppers their intruder. Embedding in the man some horrible sensation Quentin pulls off the top of his head— the smouldering sizzling feeling of ones skin burning in lye.

cw: violence

[gravity_grrl]

Roxy grabs at the towel around her in an effort to cover herself and lunges towards Quentin, her eyes are wide and panicked. "He's the Ripper!" She says, "He attacked me last night!"

The man makes a gurgling sound and Roxy looks at him angrily, "Yeah but you're in the shit house now pal!"

cw: violence

[quire]

The screaming and flailing of the pained man makes for such chaos and then suddenly, swiftly he goes still and silently.

"I can't stand here and listen to that," Quentin says with the dismissive gesture towards their no catatonic friend. "What did you say? THIS dude? This fucking fancy boy is your Ripper??"

His brow knits tightly together. "Do you think his butler knows that? Because Jeeves is on his way up here right now to figure out what all the commotion is and he's gonna end up like little Lord Fauntleroy here."

cw: violence

[gravity_grrl]

"Yeah, last night I stumbled across a woman he killed in an alley and then he attacked me and tried to take out one of my eyes." She explains and then motions at the slash across her right cheek that is still healing. "Thankfully all he did was this to me because Malcolm showed up and scared him off."

"As for the butler, your guess is as good as mine. Should we go find him and ask? Or do you want to just check his brain?"

cw: violence

[quire]

"Pftf, thankfully," Quentin doesn't sound so thankful, but before he can dwell on those simmering feelings of vengeance the stairs in the hall are creaking under the foot of the household help.

I think if he knew what this Victorian Era Incel was up to, he wouldn't have been so willing to let total strangers into this house, he points out. Unless...

When the door swings open Quentin's psionic gun disappears. Instead that malleable energy reappears as a man-sized birdcage and promptly hangs the unexpected party from the ceiling.

"Hey Alfred. We need to talk about Lord LadyKiller."

cw: violence, threats towards women

[gravity_grrl]

The polite man who Roxy had conversed with downstairs, the one who had seemed so willing to help out two strangers and then even offered them wine is gone. The man who hangs from Quentin's projected bird cage starts to spit obscenities at them, at her in particular and she clutches at her chest, feeling as if she had been slapped.

"Bitch! When my master is released he'll cut your whore throat, he'll lap up your blood and gouge out your eyes..."

"...well I guess that answers that question." She says quietly and turns her face away from him and into Quentin's chest. "Knock them both out Quentin, please? I don't feel good."

cw: violence, threats towards women

[quire]

"Done." And with snap of his fingers the room fall silent. Both keepers of this place they talked their way into incapacitated to the point of looking comatose.

Quentin pushes his hair back as he often does when he needs to think.

"Okaaaay so. Just some kind of weird... murder duo. Like... evil Batman and co-dependant Alfred or something," he babble to collect his thoughts and keep the abject intensity of his anger at bay lest he do something violent.

"You know, every time I do the nice thing. The right thing. I'm inevitably faced with human dumpster-fires like this who remind me why I'm better off being an asshole," he mutters, thought it's unclear who he's talking to as he slips out of that smoking jacket he borrowed to wrap it around Roxy. "Here I was. All Oh, golly gee Rox! We shouldn't do anything BAD to these poor unsuspecting rich people."

When his furrowed brow turns on their unconscious company it becomes very clear who this little soliloquy is for, if not just Quentin's own sanity.

"Suddenly, I don't feel very charitable. And I don't feel very much like I'd be doing anyone any harm if I didn't so much buy this house as I did just take it. The way I should have from the start."

He turns his attention back to Roxy. "I think we live here now. What do you say?"

[gravity_grrl]

Roxy meanwhile has barley heard a word Quentin has said, she's too busy trying to calm herself down but after two attempts on her life, the stream of vicious words she just heard and having her one relaxing and enjoyable moment with her friend ruined....
Well it's just too much and when Quentin turns his attention back to her she bursts into tears.

"I just wanted us to have something nice!!" She sobs into her hands, "I hate this island! Ever since we got here it's just been rotten and now the one nice thing I get it gets ruined by some gross asshole who....who...."

[quire]

It's the crying that reels his attention around. Forces him to set aside his appetite for vengeance long enough to put his attention elsewhere while his captive's remain comatose.

"Hey, hey, it's ok! It's cool! It's our house now!" he assures. "It's not ruined. We'll ruin them!" Tucking his arm around her Quentin ushers her back to the master bath where they left all their things.

"Stay here, ok? You're safe here, I swear. I've got this. Do you want me to find Wade?"

[gravity_grrl]

She lets him usher her back into the bathroom, away from the dark room and the two disturbing yet thankfully unconscious men, but when he mentions staying put she shakes her head and clamps onto him, hugging him as she cries.

"Nononono. Stay with me, please?" She pleads, burying her face into his chest.

[quire]

"Uh, ok. Yeah. Sure. I can do that too," he nods dumbly. Unable to think at all for the moment of any instance he's ever been a capable source of security or comfort for someone and if this is even a muscle he knows how to flex.

"I can like... give you calm, you know?" he says cautiously. Uncertain if that's a weird or confusing thing to offer. "Or happiness. Or like, I dunno anything you feel like feeling really. I mean I won't if you don't want that. I wouldn't just do it without permission. But if you want that. Lemme know, yeah?"

[gravity_grrl]

"I just want you to hug me." She says in a small voice and then falls silent, letting the tears come again. Eventually they taper off and she sniffles in a rather unladylike way and gives Quentin a squeeze before taking a step back.

"Thanks." She says, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I feel better."

[quire]

"Right, right, ok. Cool. Yeah. I can do that too. No prob," he rambles, mostly to himself. He does, of course, make good on that promise too, wringing her against him with his arms doubled around her protectively. Even if he's suddenly keenly aware of how awkward and boney he probably feels. Not exactly prime hugging material.

If it's true she's kind enough not to complain about it.

He scoffs sympathetically when she says that. Clearly working overtime to pull herself together. "You do not," he points out. "But that's ok. You don't have to. It's crazy to expect yourself to. You can be not better as long as you wanna."

[gravity_grrl]

She's grateful for the way he holds her protectively because even though he might be a little bony it's exactly what she needs. And when he mentions that she's allowed to not be okay she appreciates him even more and gives him another squeeze.

"Yeah...okay. Thank you Quentin, you're a good friend."

She lets out a sigh and runs a hand through her hair. "So...the assholes in the other room. We should probably hand them over to the authorities."

[quire]

"Don't worry about it," he says the way he always does when you're welcome feels sanctimonious and he realizes he knows no other way to accept someone's sincere appreciation without sounding like he's lording it over them. He means it earnestly, even if he seems a little dismissive. It's not often he has the chance to be that kind of friend to someone. He should come up with a better response to that when it's not so urgent, he thinks to himself.

"Authorities?" his brow furrows a little. "What are they gonna do? I mean, yeah ok, we could march them in there and make them say whatever we want. But Richie Rich isn't going to do any time. If anything they'll just put him in nut house and some greedy 'family' will come out of the wood work to claim this place and all his wealth. Why shouldn't we just... expedite the process?"