polymods: (Default)
polymods ([personal profile] polymods) wrote in [community profile] polylogs2021-05-01 03:00 pm

Destination: Carcosa

POLYMYTHOS: CARCOSA

Carcosa


Ⅰ. THE TEMPLE
You can read all about your character's arrival in the game lore.
The island's harbour is full of other ships, although not a single one of them seems to actually have a human being aboard. (You could certainly try to steal one, but doing so is an exercise in futility - you will find that even if you set off into the ocean you will wind up right back in the harbour again after spending a few hours lost in the fog.) Beyond the harbour is a glittering city of glass and gold. Curving arches and sharp geometric lines are the hallmarks of the architecture - an art deco paradise that whispers of decadence and hope for the future.

The people who crowd the streets wear suits and hats, drop-waist dresses and furs. Their faces are all blank smiles. It's the roaring twenties, darling, why do you look so concerned?

If it is your first experience of the Endless Isles, you have access to the High Temple. Should you wish, you may also seek out the island's own temple as well, which is located inside the city, in a district mostly forgotten by the residents. Don’t worry - your feet will carry you there.

The building is not large, and it is old and neglected. It has a domed ceiling, with panels of glass crisscrossed with metal painted gold curving upward. Whatever fine pattern may have formed there is lost to time; the glass at the centerpoint of the dome is gone, letting in the smell of the sea.

There are rooms equipped with beds spreading out like a spiderweb from the middle of the building. The temple proper is of course in the exact center, below the broken dome. In the middle of this circular room you will find dead branches gathered together to make a vaguely humanoid shape. This crude figure has been haphazardly painted yellow. A slab of concrete sits in front of it. There is not much to explore here; it is very quiet.

Either temple is a good place to simply rest, or meet some of your fellow Travelers. The High Temple of course has the Temple Chef and its usual Guardians, Flock, and Lantern.

The Island Temple has its own Guardians, which are small, pale humanoids with perfectly blank faces and small antlers like young deer. They will leave you alone unless you try to meddle with the central room. Doing so will result in one of them approaching you, and you will find yourself falling unconscious on the floor.



Ⅱ. THE MASQUERADE
Through happenstance, you find yourself in an enormous ballroom. Low couches are dotted everywhere, and a live band plays somewhere at the end of the massive space. A long bar takes up one side of the room, bottles sparkling under the light cast from the many cut-glass chandeliers hanging overhead. Champagne flows freely, and the scent of gin pervades the air.

All of the attendees are wearing masks.

You're dressed for the occasion, of course - you will find yourself wearing something reminiscent of 1920s America, with a small yellow sigil of some sort pinned to your breast. Ask any of the guests about it and they will tell you, "ah, it's a secret." You too, of course, are wearing a mask. You did not pick this mask, but if you look in the mirror hung over the bar you will find that it nonetheless hints at some aspect of your personality.

Which would be all well and good, except that you can't take the bloody thing off.

Moving around the ballroom, you will discover that a few other people also have the yellow sigil pinned to their clothing. It probably shouldn't surprise you that these people are all other Travelers, equally unable to take their mask off.

No, you can't unmask until you share something with your new-found friend: a secret. A REAL one, the sort you'd never speak aloud.

Of course, you can choose not to share. If you choose that route, however, you'll find that the mask is fusing with your skin. Leave it on past midnight when the cries of "UNMASK! UNMASK!" begin, and it will simply become your new face for the duration of the month.



Ⅲ. THE PLAY
Maybe parties aren't your style. No fear, there's plenty more to do and see in such a wondrous city. There's a theatre - the Meliora Grand as a matter of fact - and perhaps you're just the sort of person who would like to take in the arts.

The theatre has plush seats, and fabulous electric sconces lining the wall. Once you take your seat you'll find yourself looking at the stage, where a blood-red velvet curtain hangs. The theatre doesn't seem to fill up - indeed, it really seems that there's only you and one or two other people there. Curious.


The lights go down and the curtain is drawn open, revealing... well. Not much.

There are two chairs on the stage, a table between them. On the table lays a pallid face: a mask. Just a mask. Why not go on up and take a closer look?

Should you choose to touch the mask, you will feel a deep urge to speak to whoever else is in the theatre. You will, in fact, feel the desire to act out some sort of emotional trauma with them. Perhaps they suddenly look like your mother, your father, a lover who left you. Why don't you tell them how you really feel?

Naturally, you can both just sit in awkward silence instead. You'll be waiting until the morning to be let out, if that's the case.



Ⅳ. LOST CARCOSA
CW: the undead.
You find yourself walking along the beach at night. Along the shore the cloud-waves break, and black stars rise above you.

You can't quite pinpoint when you realise you are no longer alone. Maybe there is only one other person on the beach with you, or perhaps a few; you move as one down the expanse of sand until you realise there is something laying up ahead of you.

There is a heap of yellow cloth there, dry and tattered with age. It smells faintly of spices. Nestled among it is a jewel-encrusted human skull. Its empty sockets compel you to sit down in the cool, bone-white sand, to sit and speak to those around you about loss.

Everyone has lost something important to them. A person, a thing, a place, an aspect of the self. Something that's gone and you're never getting back. The skull grins endlessly, endlessly, encouraging you to speak about something you may not have laid to rest.

You can resist this compulsion. Maybe you were never good at sharing. Refuse the skull's silent request and you may continue down along the beach, or perhaps head back the way you came. As you walk, however, you will notice that there is a fog rolling in. It comes in off the sea/sky, obscuring the beach until you can barely see.

It's a terribly handy cover for the corpses that are shambling out of the surf. Wet, bloated, with eyes that glow a dim gold, they head for you silently. They wish to drag you back with them, into the depths. Better hope you can outrun or outfight them.

Bonus: What's that? You want a Carcosa playlist? You've got it, babes!


Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

ungodlily: (Default)

iii

[personal profile] ungodlily 2021-05-03 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
The beach was a welcome respite from the hum of the golden city and the anxiety of being around so many people with such empty grins. She slipped off her well-worn boots and strolled along the shore, sand creeping between her toes only to be washed away as the waves came and went. She relished the quiet and the chill of the water.

In her own thoughts, she nearly missed Vlad where he sat but, upon spotting and recognizing him, she made her way toward him. When he spoke, his words quiet against the backdrop of waves, she crouched down in front of him on the balls of her feet, boots held in one hand. She noticed the skull and its strange grin but failed to recognize the feelings it pressed into her, "You can tell me about her if you want."

He listened to her with understanding when they first met; she's more than willing to offer that in return.
unkindled_madness: (what does it matter...?)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-03 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth knows the appropriate thing would be to apologize, but he doesn't. His eyes do note those sharp spikes adorning her wings; he can imagine using them would be the appropriate "trick" in this scenario, and he'll at least acknowledge that.]

Do you suppose my untimely demise might put an end to this party?

[Not that he expects she could actually kill him, but that's part of what he finds humorous about the idea. And, there would be something satisfying about it. A little violence to put an end to this unwanted revelry.]
neverwither: (A happy curious girl)

I.

[personal profile] neverwither 2021-05-03 05:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[ How exactly the woman may have acquired the finery is none of Chloe’s concern. The notion that it could have possibly been through nefarious means never even enters her head because really, who does things like that?

The question of aesthetics is one she’s happy to indulge; it’s pleasant, easy and there’s a familiarity about it that reminds her of home. While the last part is a mixed emotional bag, she’s still all smiles as she offers the woman her opinion. ]


I think it serves as a lovely complement. And I hope it isn’t too forward to say but a blue or purple could bring out the colour in your eyes even more.
neverrefuse: (pic#14504578)

[personal profile] neverrefuse 2021-05-03 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
The Doctor drops her hand back to her side. She is relieved to have confirmation that River is fine, that the mask doesn't hurt her. There's always so many unasked questions between them. Usually on the Doctor's end.

"Secrets?" she questions, as if she can't imagine what secrets she could possibly have. "What secrets are we suppose to uncover?"
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

THE PLAY

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-03 05:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maleficent has been standing in the shadows for awhile now, waiting, watching. This whole thing sets her at unease, and ordinarily she might start casting magic at that mask in attempt to destroy it before it can unleash whatever power it inevitably has.

But she has learned that her magic is not always reliable, in this place. And there is no telling what curses the mask might be capable of. So she stays where she is, silent: until the woman starts moving towards the stage. The dark fey tenses before moving away from the wall she'd been haunting, speaking out to catch the woman's attention. Her sudden appearance could frighten the other: Maleficent is tall and horned, large feathered wings attached to her back, a clearly inhuman thing. ]


Be careful. [ She warns, sharply. ] It could be cursed.
quire: (rawr)

Quentin Quire / Kid Omega | Marvel Earth-616 | ota

[personal profile] quire 2021-05-03 05:43 pm (UTC)(link)
the temple
"Ugh, of course this place would go all Blair Witch on me." He sneers at the little bundle of kindling wrapped up like a human effigy and pokes it just to see what happens. When nothing seems to he hollers at anything that might be listening.

"Who's RUNNING this joint anyway? What's your DEAL? This man behind the curtain shtick is already OLD."

And then the antler people come for him.

"Hey! Get your hands off me bambi! Tell me what your little voodoo doll is for and maybe I won't break out the buck shot!"


the masquerade
Quentin can tolerate the outfit. Even the ostentatious gold and blue X on the breast of the sweater. The mask though is as fitting as it is frustrating for a guy who very much craves being known and seen.

He looks a little dejected watching the bartender dispense drinks to all these people lucky enough to be saddled with a dainty little domino mask that doesn't obscure their mouth.

"Muzzled at an open bar. Someone's idea of irony is actually just being as irritating as possible. So what's the deal? How does this stupid key party work? What's a guy gotta do to get his face back around here."


the play
Anyone who stumbles into the theatre might think they've here in time for dress rehearsal because Quentin, all by his lonesome, is there at center stage hollering at some unseen presence with all the vitriol of an angry nerd.

"I'm not going to listen to some Guy Fieri cosplayer tell ME what my future holds! You made YOUR choices, not MINE. Who the hell says I have to end up like you?"


wildcard
[Something completely different? PM me or throw me a starter with anything you want!]
Edited 2021-05-03 17:45 (UTC)
neverwither: (I think of things I wish I didn’t)

I.

[personal profile] neverwither 2021-05-03 05:47 pm (UTC)(link)
The sticks arranged in human form have captured Chloe’s attention as well. Head tilted to one side, she looks over the bundle of branches from what should be a head to what could be a foot. Spooky. That’s the first word that comes to mind for it. Spooky. Relics that seem so old-world are always of interest but the rudimentary arrangement is… unsettling.

Something she recognises reaches her audio processors, head turning towards the source of the words. “Shades of bodies without souls,” she adds, aware she’s skipping ahead but the line just formed on the tip of her tongue. That, along with the effigy, causes an… uncomfortable sort of feeling in her biocomponents.

Then she looks down a moment, shaking her head. “I’m sorry. I overheard you and… I couldn’t resist a little recitation.”
spoilers: (face:  well actually)

[personal profile] spoilers 2021-05-03 05:52 pm (UTC)(link)
It's her instinct to pull the Doctor close, the masks once again getting in her way. She's really beginning to get annoyed. But she does let her hands rest at the Doctor's waist as she answers. "The kind we wouldn't usually tell anyone, I imagine."

River knows who she married. She's loved them for lifetimes. But some days...

"No two people lie more than us." She doesn't have to say, even to each other. It's implied well enough. They've both always hidden their truths.

Secrets are a safety net. They keep people from asking too many difficult questions. Keep the past from hurting too much, old wounds from ripping open.
Edited 2021-05-03 17:54 (UTC)
neverrefuse: (pic#14504570)

[personal profile] neverrefuse 2021-05-03 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's ridiculous," she says with a scoff. "Nobody knows me better than you. So who am I supposed to confess to? Anyone here of my choosing?" The Doctor looks around the crowd again. River's right, the Doctor does have a penchant for lying. There are too many things she desperately keeps close to the chest. Things most people just wouldn't understand. Choices she's made in her long life.

"There has to be another way."
spoilers: (distance:  calm)

[personal profile] spoilers 2021-05-03 06:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Denial isn't hard to recognize.

"I'm flattered, Sweetie." One hand comes up to trace the yellow sigil pinned to the Doctor's suit. "And I believe they need to be wearing this symbol, marking them as one of our fellow Travellers."

At least, from what she's been able to tell.

What River isn't doing is offering an alternative. She hasn't found one yet. But even she isn't sure if it's easier to tell your secrets to someone you love or a near stranger.
extrasensory_problems: (up_smile)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-05-03 07:06 pm (UTC)(link)
There's a long moment where he looks at the woman in front of him, his brows knitting together in a look of confusion, and then slowly realization starts to dawn. Her mask may actually help him figure out who it is faster than if she wasn't wearing it, with the mask on he really only has her eyes to focus on and those don't seem to change much between her two forms.

"Apples...?" He asks and then his lips curve into a slanted smile as he finally clues in.
"Oh!! Apples! Jen, hi!"

He takes a step back, looking her up and down in a curious way.

"Wow." He says and then blushes at how rude that sounds. "I mean...sorry. You look different, I mean nice. You look nice."
what_fourth_wall: (Ow.)

DP is truly a walking CW XD (omg consonants)

[personal profile] what_fourth_wall 2021-05-03 07:22 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh huh, not Batman. How did I miss that there are feathers? It must be my rubbery face mask..."

Thoughtfully, he plucks a feather and looks at it. This is most certainly not the way to make a great first impression with Maleficent. Plucking feathers is, in many avian circles, likely considered incredibly rude. But Deadpool really doesn't seem to know any boundaries, and if it's any consolation, he'll treasure this Malifeather forever.

"Oh yeah, you can really put an eye out with those wings there." He rubs at where his eye used to be through the mask. "I hate it when that happens. Really fucks over the depth perception. Makes it hard to truly appreciate all of those magnificent Maleficent sharp, amazing facial angles. I mean, those cheek bones. Ain't no Maybelline that can accomplish that."

(Okay. I think everyone is impressed with how many large M words you can toss at Maleficent now.)

"Yeah, but it's just not good enough! Her Malifont game is too tight! I've got the words, but she's got the style!"

(You should be responding to her, not the voices in your head.)

"Oh..yeah...the eye." He shrugs. "It hurts like a biiiiiitch, but don't worry. No malfeasance done here. I'm not malcontent."

(JFC...)

"It'll grow back. Small price to pay for some intimate time with Maleficent's wing OH MY GOD!! I'm just going to have a Malifanboy moment over here, don't mind me."
what_fourth_wall: (pointing)

Also CW for shameless promotion of Reynolds properties!!!

[personal profile] what_fourth_wall 2021-05-03 07:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"Don't you give me that judgy look! You had your movie!!! Honestly, it spawned some of the best quotable musical numbers. Do you know who I'm blaming for being here? CANADA."

(He still thinks you're Ryan Reynolds, not Deadpool. This is going to make no sense. But hey, you didn't mention Disney at least. Also...do we know he's Kyle from Southpark yet? You might be jumping the gun there.)

"Eh. Just my death wish. No big." And his feelings of not being wanted by anyone, but that wasn't something that was ever seeing the light of day with anyone else. "Watch out for whatever's further down the beach. This may be a zombie free zone for now, but 28 feet later might be a different story. You might want to hang out here and crack open a bottle of delicious Aviation gin with me here. It's unlikely your Mint Mobile plan will work out here to call for help. You are legal right? Eh fuck it, I doubt it matters."

fissure: little-luna @ hollow-art (13)

iii. Beach

[personal profile] fissure 2021-05-03 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"All the time," Prior admits in a distant voice. He isn't entirely certain why he's found himself in the company of Kyle Broflovski again — lord relieve him that temptation — but he notes with some chagrin that he doesn't mind it as much in this moment than he might otherwise. There's a comfort in that familiarity, apparently. Surely someone dissenting of Prior (or otherwise) would have something to say about that, but they're not here and it's only Prior's own dissent echoing in his ears.

"One moment you're suckling sweet on mother's milk, the next you're painting a face on a scarecrow because you don't trust yourself to get the bayonet all the way in." Morbid? Perhaps. Irrelevant? Only just, and if one squints hard enough Prior figures anyone can see anything they wish to whether it's there or not. Perhaps in Kyle's world it's not scarecrows and bayonets, but sure as he is in his few short decades on earth, Prior's sure of this: every generation must grow up earlier than the last.

His distant thoughts aren't drawn any closer by the flare of the lighter, and as he takes a long draw on his cigarette, he allows himself to be fascinated with watching it disappear into the rolling fog. The sound of the water lapping at the shore reminds him of home. He can picture Sarah — his dear, sweet Sarah, sulfured yellow and carefully maudlin — being windswept, her bright orange flare of hair covered in tiny specks of surf.

Prior huffs.

"They don't even let the balls drop anymore before they're shoving them out the door and ask them to save the world," he finally says through his smoke. He doesn't count himself among his declaration, apparently: No shoves had been needed — he'd practically ran out the door to get away from his childhood.
extrasensory_problems: (moody)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-05-03 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
He sighs, the sound of it as empty and hollow as the eyes of the skull.

"My mother." He says simply and the sound in his head increases, as if in response, it sounds like the angry buzzing from a wasps nest and his face cramps briefly in a grimace of pain.

Songs that the Hyades shall sing, where flap the tatters of the King

"She..." He starts to say and then stops. He doesn't want to say it, there's something wrong with that noise, it sounds hungry and eager.

Must die unheard in...

"She..."

The sound rises and he grabs at his head, wincing at the horrible feeling that is filling his mind.

"NO!" He screams and lashes out, his telekinetic abilities pushing out the horrible sound but also knocking over anything in a five foot radius.
howlett: (sniff2)

Logan / Wolverine | Marvel 616 | ota

[personal profile] howlett 2021-05-03 09:00 pm (UTC)(link)
the temple
Ever the skeptic Logan hasn't found anything here yet that doesn't evoke more of his suspicious questions. The atmosphere in temple at least gives him the peace of mind that he's right to ask his questions. He's thumbing that colorful band on his wrist and looking for other's wearing the same. Trying to spot a pattern between the colours and the wearers. An impossible task amongst strangers.

"Why the supplies? You plannin' on sending us some place else? We just got here." The guardians ignore him of course. Not that he suspected any different really. He just doesn't feel comeplled to fill his pack and make for whatever lies beyond the temple quite yet. Not when so many people who come through here to collect whatever pittance they're being granted seem younger and more lost than someone like him.

"Save it," he says when some rations are provided. "Maybe someone else could use a little extra. I'm all set."


the masquerade
With his cream white jacket and black slacks, his tux isn't just a classic. It's a look he's not unknown for in the right circles. So much so that he might be a little uneasy about making himself known amongst strangers, but that's a concern that's easily eclipsed by the mask he can't take off. It's a throwback too, of sorts. But not one he's likely to choose for himself.

In fact, the scuffed and scratched state of the gadgetry clinging to his face implies he's already spent no small amount energy trying to pry it off to no avail. And now he's just drinking.

"Skip the bubbly, I'm gonna need something harder than that, bub."


lost carcosa
Having gotten the sense this isn't exactly a continent they've been dropped on Logan walks the beach a long time. Until the thick fog rolls in and he loses sight of the village or the temple from here.

Confident he can find his way back just by the sound of the water and the briney scent of turning tide he stops in his tracks when he hears footsteps. "You lost? You better make for higher ground. Tide's comin' in," he warns to whoever's staggering around in the fog.


wildcard
[something else? get at me with a starter or PM.]
Edited 2021-05-03 21:03 (UTC)
cryptsleeper: (Default)

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2021-05-03 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
A shame, either way.

[Alucard's quiet, and he folds his arms across his chest.]

If the hole was at least better managed, one could make a Pantheon parallel. Or at least claim an intent rather than live with unsightly accident.
extrasensory_problems: (tank)

content warnings for death/murder/grief

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-05-03 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ooc: I didn't know if I had to put that here or in the subject line but either way just to be on the safe side. Also if any of this starts to lean towards opt out territory just let me know.]

Carter can barely feel the other man's presence, he feels lost deep inside the black void that fills the eyes of the skull. But he hears the question and after a moment he responds, his voice husky and thick.

"My mother. She was murdered."
kyley_b: https://fmdinisio.tumblr.com/ (yup)

I've had that gin.

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-03 09:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Kyle stares blankly at Wade for a moment. Ultimately, he decides not to ask. He's very, very used to just not asking.

"...Oh. Uh. Are you okay, Mr. Reynolds? Like, do you need someone to talk to, or a hotline number or...?" Not that there's any phones here, Kyle. Also it's the 1920s, hotlines aren't yet a thing.

He looks up the beach, then back and Wade. He shrugs. "I'm twenty-three," he mutters. "You seriously have gin on you somewhere?"
kyley_b: (RL_KB_06)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-03 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)
One could argue that Prior just has terrible luck. He may not know it yet, but Kyle Broflovski is a walking chaos magnet. It's a wonder they haven't been pulled into the ocean by giant crabs or elder gods or something yet.

Kyle blinks, clearing his gaze a little, and looks at Prior thoughtfully. He looks back at the skull. It sees nothing, of course. Or maybe everything.

"I guess that's what it's like where you're from, yeah," he says quietly. "It's not exactly the same for me, so I actually feel a bit like I'm whining now. I was thinking just more about how as you grow up you lose how easy things were when you were little. I mean, things weren't always good - they were bad a lot, I guess - but I feel like I could just adapt so much more easily."

He looks back at Prior again. "You really had to grow up fast."
kyley_b: (RL_KB_15)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-03 10:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Which, unfortunately, Kyle is.

The invisible blast hits him like a linebacker and sends him sprawling into the surf. Kyle sits up, coughing and sputtering, eyes wide and locked on Carter.

"Dude!" he says. "What the fuck? Was that you?!"
fissure: little-luna @ hollow-art (Default)

[personal profile] fissure 2021-05-03 10:21 pm (UTC)(link)
The silence is a bit of a buffer as Prior thinks to feel a little bad for guilting Kyle out of his guilt. He's sure it won't last, and neither should it.

"Things probably weren't easier, you just didn't know any better," Prior points out. "Survival instincts and all." Even if his had parents that cared and were willing to share their own perspectives, odds were pretty good that through a combination of sheltering and underestimation, they left poor Kyle to fend for himself (emotionally, if not otherwise) more often than not. Certainly more than society says is right.

"You're right, though." He ashes his cigarette, turning this way and that to observe the length of the beach. "This isn't right."
kyley_b: https://mcnuggyy.tumblr.com/ (gah!)

The play's the thing

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-03 10:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, goddammit.

Of all the people on the island to have wandered upon, it had to be the pink-haired wannabe-anarchist asshole that Kyle had met briefly at the High Temple. Kyle couldn't quite remember his name - Quinto or something - but he well remembered his attitude, which was basically Reddit incarnate. Loud, demanding, selfish, and completely convinced of his own intellect and righteousness.

They'd hated one another pretty much at once.

Once his immediate wave of dislike abates somewhat, Kyle realises that the guy was just screaming at the air. He sure didn't seem to think that's what was going on, though. Kyle approaches the stage, feeling a strange sensation of time doubling back - he half expects to see an assortment of stuffed animals on the table, but it looks like it's just a mask.

"Dude, who the hell are you talking to?" he asks nervously.
howlett: (hmph2)

[personal profile] howlett 2021-05-03 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[It might a minute before he realizes that any familiarity between them only runs one way.]

Kind of a vain bunch, aintcha?

[He's not really looking for an answer to that though. As evidenced by the way carries on.]

You got an idea who might be listening? I wouldn't ask, but all this magical shit ain't exactly my wheelhouse. You on the other hand...
kyley_b: (RL_KB_06)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-03 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Kyle nods, his eyes being drawn back to the skull again. "No. No, it isn't." He crosses his arms, cupping his elbows, and frowns lightly at the grim spectre encrusted with jewels in its nest of cloth.

He opens his mouth to say It's creepy, and instead says, "It's lonely." He starts slightly, surprised at himself, but it's true - standing on this beach it feels like perhaps the only people left in the world are Prior and himself.

"I wish we could go back. To being kids, I mean. Even when it was crazy at least I had friends I could count on."