polymods: (Default)
polymods ([personal profile] polymods) wrote in [community profile] polylogs2022-03-01 06:08 pm

where we're going--

POLYMYTHOS: EVENT HORIZON

EVENT HORIZON


Ⅰ. ARRIVAL
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
There has always been some confusion as to whether or not the ferry cuts through sea or sky, but this month as you glide along you will find yourself more and more convinced that it is the latter. It is nigh impossible to see where you are headed, the way forward shrouded in darkness.

At first you think the lights ahead are stars.

The ferry docks inside of a metallic bay of some kind. It’s an extension of what must be the island, although this one does not resemble any earthly land mass. It appears to be a deliberately constructed structure, contained on all sides. Maybe you’re familiar enough with technology or science fiction enough that you realise it resembles a space station more than an island.

Once you’ve disembarked from the ferry, you will find that you cannot go outside of the structure.

Inside, there are seemingly endless corridors for you to explore. The halls on the upper deck are rounded, metallic, with lights set at regular intervals. Here there are chambers roughly the length and width of a single bed, with sufficient height for a person to crawl in and sit up on the bed. There is a television screen set in the wall at the foot of the bed by the door, and sockets for electronics. That is all.


Also on this floor is a mess hall where you can get beige, mostly tasteless nutritional sludge dispensed from machines. Water and coffee are also available, likewise dispensed from machines. (There is a cookbook hidden on a shelf written by one Serak the Preparer, but no ingredients anywhere.) There are private showers and bathrooms, a small gym, and rooms clearly meant as places for people to sit and talk. There is a medical bay, although there is no staff. In fact, the whole place seems empty.

There are some rooms that are locked - these look like offices. The doors to these rooms are extremely difficult to break down, but if you have superhuman strength you could manage it. Or maybe you’re clever enough to work the electronic panels beside the doors.

Inside you will find round monitors on the walls and square tablet-like devices on desks. Attempt to work any of these and a soft, pleasant but emotionless voice will inform you that you do not have access. You can try to speak to the AI - called MUTHER - but it is supremely uncooperative. Someone very good with technology could use the tablet the old fashioned way, perhaps, to access files. You might want to be careful, though - MUTHER might decide to retaliate. Harshly.

There doesn’t seem to be a temple anywhere readily apparent.

Notes:
1. The High Temple and anything characters may have stored there is only accessible to those who are experiencing their first island outside of the TDM via a marked door. Everyone else must make do with what is available.

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

3. The televisions play mostly game shows. You can also find a set of controllers for it and play Pong. Just Pong.

4. MUTHER will not deliberately kill any people on the station - her programming forbids it. She is not above releasing hallucinogenic gas into the air vents, though.

5. Have fun!



Ⅱ. CONSCIENCE
CW: psychological trauma, threat of death.
It’s easy to get lost; nearly identical corridors branch off from one another. As you walk along you gradually become convinced that someone is following you. Periodically you’ll hear footsteps, a sigh, a rustle of cloth. But every time you turn around you see nothing… unless it’s one of your fellow Travelers. Or maybe you run into them because you’re so busy looking over your shoulder.

Regardless, as you walk along the lights in the corridor flicker, and when they turn back on you will find someone you know standing directly in your path. Someone who you know absolutely cannot be there.

Maybe they died. Maybe you haven’t spoken in years. Whoever they are, the feeling they inspire within you is one of intense guilt. You did something to this person, something for which you think you can never be forgiven.

The apparition might speak, or it might just watch you with silently accusing eyes. You begin to wither under its gaze, feeling weaker and weaker until you can barely stand. You just want to lay on the floor and close your eyes… maybe forever.

Your fate rests in the hands of whoever is with you or finds you. All they have to do is introduce a smidgen of doubt into your mind, a recognition that maybe it isn’t all your fault. Of course, that means you might have to tell them what you did.

Oh, dear.

Notes:
1. The severity of the offense is of course up to the player - this can be deadly serious, or played for laughs. No matter how it is played the only way to save a character from sleeping on the floor until they die from dehydration is to convince them of even the possibility that they might not be guilty. They do not have to feel completely absolved.



Ⅲ. STOWAWAY
CW: monstrous creatures.
The lower decks of the station are darker, more utilitarian looking. These are corridors that lead to rooms full of computers and machinery that keep the station running so it’s probably best to keep out of there.

There are also storage bays filled with both prosaic wooden crates and large metallic pods. Most of these are locked up tight. But not all. Investigate some of the pods and you’ll find that the floor around them is wet with some sort of milky, slimy substance that sure seems like it came from a living organism.

Maybe you should get out of here.

Before you can get good and gone to the upper decks, however, you find exactly what you probably didn’t want to unless you have a very exciting Tinder profile: an alien.

At least eight feet tall, with pale almost translucent skin, the creature has an elongated skull and a mouth that hosts two sets of jaws like a moray eel. It has a whiplike tail and spiky protrusions along its upper back. It is bipedal, and very, VERY fast.

Better hope you’ve got something to fight with! Your chances of survival are definitely greater if you work with a partner.

And you better hope there’s just the one.

Notes:
1. The aliens are extremely dangerous, but they CAN be killed. Their blood is thick and yellow but is not acidic or poison.



Ⅳ. TEMPLE
CW: potential insanity, violence.
If you wander the dark lower decks long enough, you will find yourself moving ever inward toward the very center of the station. There is a door there that is supposed to be locked, but often isn’t. It’s waiting for you, beyond that door and down a dark corridor: the station’s heart.

The room the solitary corridor opens into is round, walls sloping gently up to a domed ceiling. In the middle of the room is a machine of some kind: a series of concentric thick metal rings rotate in different directions around a sphere. The only noise it makes is the gentle swooshing of the circles as they spin out, up, around.


The air feels heavy and charged. It’s not pleasant.

Before you can leave, all of the rings line up so that they appear to radiate out from the sphere in the center. Light flares, and then in the space where the sphere once was you can see it:

Home.

It’s your homeworld, perhaps exactly as you left it, or perhaps earlier or later along in the timeline. It may be pleasant, or it may be awful, but it is undeniably the place from which you came. The place where you belong.

Stare into this portal home long enough and the compulsion to return will slip over you. You just need to jump into the glowing, trembling center of that dimensional gate.

Whoever is with you, however, realises that leaping headfirst into an unknown dimension might not be the smartest idea you’ve ever had, especially considering how ominous the whole place feels. They might be able to talk you down. Hopefully they can talk you down, because the longer you stare at the portal the more convinced you become that you MUST leap into it, and the only way to do so is to kill whoever is trying to get in your way.

If instead you turn away from the dimensional gate, the lights will flare once more before the rings resume their movement. That brief glimpse of home is gone. In its place is the sound of soft voices; people you have left behind, calling out to you with accusations of things left undone, begging to be told why you won’t come home...

These voices will follow you throughout the ship. They are not constant, but they never leave you alone for very long. They won’t be silent until you give them an answer to the question of why you have chosen to remain.

Notes:
1. If characters DO jump into the gate… They can pass through and emerge on the opposite side gravely injured or completely out of their minds. Or you may use this as a very dramatic exit from the game.

Is anybody out there listening?


Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

antifungi: (15331110)

joel | ota

[personal profile] antifungi 2022-03-05 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
i. arrival
[ Where there is crappy instant coffee, there is Joel. Even in outer-fucking-space. (Yeah, he's not too thrilled with that last bit - but this is all right.)

The cafeteria doesn't exactly bode well for this leg of their journey, but he's had to eat worse than tasteless sludge, and that was entirely without the perks. Featureless grey cup in hand, he's slumped over at one of the equally charming and unique tables, enjoying this brief reprieve from what's sure to be a whole lot of new bullshit however much he can.

It's only when he sees someone taking an interest in that cookbook that he forfeits the pleasant silence. ]
Don't know that you're gonna get much use out of that, here.


ii. conscience
[ Paranoia is second-nature to Joel, a constant companion. So when he manages to get himself turned around in all those long, identical hallways, he doesn't feel the itch so quick. It comes on slow, gradual.

Maybe he's walking with somebody, maybe they don't notice, or they're just used to him looking back over his shoulder every time they turn a corner, already. Maybe the second time he asks, You hear that?, as the echo of small, bare feet on polished metal flooring creeps up on them before disappearing once again, they start to feel a little paranoid, themselves.

Or maybe he's alone when the overheads flicker briefly off - but it doesn't matter. The apparition that appears in the light is the same, staring him down impassively with that flatly accusing stare. ]


Sarah? [ There's a rough, broken off edge in his voice, as he takes a half-step toward her and starts to crumble. ]


iii. stowaway
[ The station's lower levels are a more familiar kind of eerie, cramped and cluttered with pipes and grates and all manner of bare, industrial trappings. Starkly reminiscent of train tunnels and sewers, the occasionally necessary thoroughfares of his own ruined world. At least there aren't any clickers around, though. 

And it's easier to navigate, Joel picking out convenient markers of where they're headed and keeping track of the turns far better than his attempts above. The storage bays are almost promising, and he moves toward a stack of crates with purpose, every bit intending to start rummaging inside - until his boot skids in a puddle of that viscous slime. He comes up short, leaning past the crate to get a look at the mess around that open pod lying on the ground. ]


Looks like somebody's been through here, already.
dog_eat_dog: <user name=ifeelsick> (is easily the most boring part of the we)

II

[personal profile] dog_eat_dog 2022-03-05 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
It's strange being here. It's strange being anywhere.

Joel being on edge doesn't bother her. Hell, it's normal –– who doesn't take to their surroundings with a particular wariness, an inclination towards double-checking that the movement in the corner of one's eye is something innocent and not an outstretched jaw or rushing body? She's on edge too, and maybe half of it is just being in what is allegedly space. When the lights go off, she tenses. When they come back on, she's relieved, if only for a second.

The shear in his voice and the way he turns is a sharp pull into emergency mode.

"Joel, what's...?"

She sees the girl and freezes. She could say she has no idea what's going on, but that wouldn't be true, would it? She's clever. She can put the pieces together real fast.

Jesus christ, what is going on?

"Joel," she repeats, more urgent. Wary.

She reaches for his arm to stop him.
Edited 2022-03-05 20:45 (UTC)
antifungi: (15331142)

[personal profile] antifungi 2022-03-06 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
Ordinarily, he'd have no trouble seeing this for what it is, either. Seeing just what it's trying to do to him, like all the other tricks the isles have played on them. But it's not just an unwelcome phantom, this time. It's the weight of that stare falling on him like a physical weight, a punch in the gut that steals his breath, a hand on his shoulder that pulls him forcefully down.

He doesn't pull against her hand on his arm, but only because he doesn't make it another step. Tries to, but his knee twists out from under him, and he hits the floor with a flat, wordless huff, the last of the air leaving his lungs.

Sarah just watches, her small, pale face somehow seeming at once a mask of indifference and of loathing, as if to say It's all your fault. You might as well have killed me yourself.

He doesn't realize she's spoken aloud, even when he answers in slow, exhausted measure, "I know."