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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

sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ He can't help the stupid grin that crosses his face. He's never known someone to steal an entire bottle from a party before, and he decides, why the hell not? ]

I suppose I'm already here.

[ He makes his own seat in the sand beside her, watching her trying to open the bottle. ]

Shall I do it?
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
Imagine seeing the same people, every day and every night, and the only reprieve you get is when everyone takes their summer holidays in the country. But somehow you still end up getting invited to their country homes for a week at a time.

[ Benedict lets out a sigh, feeling exhausted just thinking about it.

That probably means he should think of something else, like trying for another secret that might remove his mask.
]

I found my younger sister smoking once and didn't tell our mother.
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ Benedict smiles a little, glad to have found someone from home. Sort of. A kindred spirit if nothing else. ]

I wish it weren't. I've nothing against the idea of family. I very much love mine, but I'm not certain I'm meant for that life.

[ Which doesn't mean he won't do it. It's what his family would want for him, and it's the proper thing to do. Though Henry has presented a compelling alternative, and Henry is married after all. Could Benedict be so fortunate as to find a wife of convenience and love? ]

Though I suppose if I'm here, it's hardly worth concerning myself with.
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
My mother needed a name starting with the letter B. I suppose if it wasn't Benedict, it'd have probably been Benjamin or something of the like.

[ He should ask her. He'll try to remember to, if he ever gets out of this place. ]

I'm from London. England. [ In case somehow there are other Londons. ] And you?
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
"I assure you there's nothing to forgive. We always want for what we don't have, isn't that what they say? If I were to go all the time, I'd yearn for him, but I stay so I yearn for something else. I hadn't expected it to be quite like this, though."

Benedict allows himself a smile, hoping to ease anything that might be lurking to spoil the mood entirely.

"And yourself? Where are you fortunate to call home?"
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-19 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
I'm sorry.

[ And Benedict finds that he really is. He doesn't necessarily stop to think that some people might not be so fortunate, either because they have no family or something else. He thinks about the poor young men fighting at the front lines of wars who won't get such a death, and it makes him feel a touch guilty. ]

We all have different visions of the end, I suppose.
grayshulk: (pic#12883337)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-05-19 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
Jennifer makes a soft sound somewhere between agreement and irritation when Chloe mentions that the whole mess could be something done just to entertain something with power. It's very possible, and frustrating in a way that is unique to the context. She is not ready to deal with that level of being messed with, even if it is likely.

Jennifer's shake is warm and firm but not crushing. Practiced and appropriate to an extent that might be obvious. Even here she can't shake the habits she developed as a lawyer. "A pleasure. There's only so much we can do about the circumstances before, but hopefully, we will have a little more influence going forward."
grayshulk: (pic#12896302)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-05-19 05:19 am (UTC)(link)
Jennifer shrugs slightly. She thinks back to a combination of her lived experience and the clientele she's had to work with over time. "Longterm abductors can have fantasies about building relationships with the people they grab, and the being behind it having more power than most doesn't seem to tamp down that tendency."

But there's a thing: as cynical about their situation is more than natural for Jennifer, but the base level comfort of the temple is working to sell her a little. If only because being able to control her abilities a little more easily again is a major relief.
extrasensory_problems: (up_smile)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-05-19 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
Why did it have to start with a B? Is this a family thing like when moms name all their kids with the same first letter or everyone has flower names?

[Carter nods, he's never been to England but it's been on his list of places he'd like to travel to.]

I'm from Jersey.
grayshulk: (pic#12883401)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-05-19 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
They should post a sign or something.

[Jennifer is a little more winded than she's used to being after a run that short, especially without the fight. It had been a relief to give herself over to the window of flight when her conscious brain could step aside without the imminent threat of letting loose her hulk. That doesn't mean her body is what it was before her illness.]

Seriously, though, should we put up a sign? Or at least try to warn the others who aren't from here?
grayshulk: (pic#12896315)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-05-19 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
"Gin and champagne sounds like a truly horrible idea," she says, managing to keep her tone light even as she fiddles with the weight of her mask in her hands. "So we might as well give it a try."

Honestly, any booze at all is a terrible idea, but Jennifer intends to sleep in the main temple again tonight. The place has a tranquilizing effect on her other half, and she's fairly confident in her ability to return. Besides, they both deserve something after ripping open the old scabs. Probably something better than fizz and gin, but that's what's on hand.
nanban: (listen)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-19 07:42 am (UTC)(link)
Hawks raises an eyebrow. He's not sure what he's expecting, but...an admission of power without knowledge of the source or whatever? That's new. Quirks are part of mutations in people, so where they come from isn't really mysterious. Hawks knows nothing about why or how each person gets what they get, but he's not fussed about it.

He tilts his head to the side, considering, studying the man in front of him for a moment.

"What limit did you hit?" he asks, rather than ask something more general about what Vlad's powers might be. He's curious, sure, but he's also not an idiot. If this guy doesn't want to spill, he won't push too hard. But he'll file it away for later, partially because of his own personal curiosity but also because if there's something Vlad isn't talking about, there must be a reason for that.
nanban: (Default)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-19 07:47 am (UTC)(link)
He wonders if Anders is like Maleficent, ostracised because of something inherent about him, something his world deems worthy of scorn. He can't imagine it with Maleficent, because she seems so sure of herself, so powerful. But she's probably singular in what she is, or...close to it? He's not actually sure of the details. Anders doesn't stand out to him the way Maleficent does, with her wings and her bearing.

"That's awful, man," he says. His voice is mild, but he means it. He doesn't blame Anders for that creep of anger. He'd be angry too. Who wouldn't be?

He looks back at the darkness in the skull's empty eyes.

"My dad always seemed to hate me for existing, but I'm just unlucky like that. I mean, I turned out fine and everything so I shouldn't complain, but things like that get to you, right?"

His mild tone never changes; he's too used to coming across like he doesn't care, like he's unaffected or lazy or whatever it is. Old habits die hard.

"I guess it's not surprising that different worlds lend themselves to wildly different experiences, but maybe the similarities matter here when we're all stuck with questions and not answers."
unkindled_madness: (arms folded)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-19 01:29 pm (UTC)(link)
["Sorry"? What, is this man pitying him? There's nothing pitiable in laughing at naivety.]

You really think that's a plausible one? Dying an old man, entirely satisfied with your life, your family there to outlive you? Even in fiction, it's a rarity.
suckonthis: (this is a driving test on my illegal lic)

[personal profile] suckonthis 2021-05-19 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)
One disaster at a time, thanks.

[ No. Maybe he'll confess, but it won't be for awhile. If Simon is striking deals with Akira and being buddy buddy enough to guess on his personality is best he not know everything. As far as he's concerned, Simon knows enough about him that he'll have to keep tabs on him.

Sorry, Simon. (BUT REALLY, Akira is just going to blurt their personal biz-nasty on the network anyway soon so you might be saved the spy work) ]


The exit? [ He didn't even remember how he got here, or where the pocket watch he's fishing out of his tux came from. Or the urge to look at it as the clock ticked to midnight. He turns away to look curiously in the opposite direction.

This totally isn't fodder from someone that didn't read the FAQs to see if this phenomenon was answered. Let's pretend it's valid. Shhh. ]


Over there. [ It's stated plainly, even though he's confused. Was that there the entire time or is he a champagne (and gin) light weight? Hm. ] Remember, we have a deal.

[ What a meaningful and somewhat threatening message to leave off on. Does he leave immediately? Who knows... Ryo's kind of vague like that. Bye frenemy. ]
incelligent: by Sani_Caranza on plurk (68)

[personal profile] incelligent 2021-05-19 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[As much as he hates to admit it, this conversation has given Simon all too much to think about. He is used to putting everything and everyone in categories. Ally. Friend. Threat. Enemy.

This conversation with Ryo is muddling things, mixing the hard lines and colors. Black and white are becoming grey, and while that doesn't sit well with Simon at the moment, it plants the seeds of reconsideration within the deep recesses of his troubled mind.
]

I'm not gonna say anything.

[For now, at least. Who's to say he'll even remember this paltry detail when he should?]

Your secret's safe with me.

[He means that, in earnest.]

I'll see you later.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟑𝟗)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 04:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Maleficent is fully expecting a reaction of fear from the girl — she looks young, human from the surface, at least. It's the natural assumption and one she's at a sort of ease with after all of these years: to be looked at with fear. Yet while there might be that ever-so-slight widening of the eyes, the girl does not openly balk, does not gasp or scream or flinch back. 'I am merely inconvenienced.'

Maleficent purses her lips slightly, curiosity further piqued by the response. Is it a wound? Or something she's used to, some medical condition, perhaps? Maleficent knows humans have their various ailments; their bodies are so soft. So easily broken. ...But she isn't sure how to take this. She has never seen someone bleed from their eyes before.

Like the work of a curse, something in her whispers, and she wonders.

The dark fey stares for a moment longer, and then lifts her hand quietly into the air. With a flicker of shimmering gold magic, a piece of her own robe splits at the end, and drifts to her hand. Maleficent then holds it out towards the girl: more cloth, to clean herself with, to catch more blood.

"Here."
Edited 2021-05-19 16:32 (UTC)
kyley_b: (RL_KB_03)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-19 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, exactly. Not that I'm hiding any deep secrets or anything, it's just normal stuff." He's such a liar. "But nobody likes telling others about the shitty things they've done or whatever."

Kyle looks at Saxsice for a long moment before he nods. "You know what? Yes. I do."
extrasensory_problems: (mischief)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-05-19 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
"A truly awful, horrible idea and no good will come of it." Carter agrees solemnly and then breaks into his wide slanted grin, it is both warm and mischievous. A devil may care smile that hints that he could act a lot more reckless than he chooses to.

He offers her his arm as they drift towards the bar, people swirling past them like a galaxy of stars, winking on and off in a pattern that flows along with the music.

"I think I know this song." He remarks, glancing towards the band who seem to have an endless supply of energy since they've been playing all night with no breaks. Carter vaguely hopes that someone is bringing them drinks, he knows how exhausting it can be to play music for hours on end.
medeiun: ɪᴍᴀᴋᴇʀᴘɪᴄᴏɴs (pic#14876263)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 08:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maleficent hasn't gone around talking too much about her power's limits, not wanting to divulge too much in terms of weakness. One never knows who might prove to be an enemy, here. But here is someone else who seems to be in much of the same position as she, and they are stuck here together.... There's a certain desperation, though she keeps herself calm on the surface. How long will they remain prisoner here in this grand room?

Perhaps sharing a bit of information would be fine. At least it would be far less personal than anything that mask would surely prompt out of them. And of her own autonomy, not coaxed by the strange magics of this place. ]


Mine is still present, but it appears to have limitations. [ The fey holds up a hand to demonstrate for the other woman, a glittering swirl of gold shining around her wrist as she twirls it gently. She doesn't use spellwork to summon her own magic; it's connected to the earth. ] I can feel, in my spirit, that something is changed.

...This makes me feel that they have some degree of access into our spirits. Perhaps they could do all manner of things to us.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟐𝟎)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
His response comes easily — perhaps suggesting it's honest, not having to be thought about at all. Or perhaps he's rehearsed it. Maleficent borders on far too suspicious most days, but living such a way is a necessity. Trust no one, especially here, where she does not know the rules of this strange land or what this man might be capable of. He seems human on the surface, but she knows better than that. He might be something else beneath.

"The same," she answers, words cool to the touch, calm. But she keeps her eyes on him for a long moment, following his movements as he stands, leaning back and casting his gaze to her.

"It seems the powers keeping us here delight in forcing us to play their little games." Maleficent's eyes finally cut to the stage, and she lifts her sharp brows at the mask set out there on the table. "I wonder what should happen if we were to refuse."
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 08:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maleficent has only barely glimpsed "science" — what Mankind does with its advancements and experiments. Yet she can understand how the two might compare. Humans can do.... creative things with their sciences. Dangerous things, typically. Threatening.

She gazes down to the skull as the girl addresses it again, her sharp eyes slowly looking over its surface, the two empty sockets. She takes a moment to answer, considering it. ]


I can sense that it is... ancient. As for whether it is magic.... I am not sure. [ She admits. It seems to be beyond her capabilities. If it is in fact magic, it comes from something far greater than herself. ]

There is also the possibility it may be cursed. A dark magic placed upon it, unable to be detected....

[ ...A thought eases into her. ] You did not touch it, did you?
medeiun: ᴍᴀʟᴀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ (pic#14830053)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Maleficent gazes a bit more intensely at him — her eyes widening just ever-so-slightly; it's almost a hidden thing, an invisible little gesture of her surprise. No one has ever offered to compromise their safety for hers; Diaval is certainly loyal enough, and he has proven he would die alongside of her if he must, but someone being so willing to perish in her place, to leave her to avenge them... it is new. Of course, he is clearly something very strong, and used to immortality; perhaps it is true that he's simply so powerful such a thing could not harm him. But if it did.....

The fey stares for a moment longer, almost as though uncertain. But then she slowly dips her own head a little again, red mouth pursing thoughtfully. "Very well. No wonder you wear the likeness of a dragon, tonight." She means this as a compliment of her own — whether it's bravery or true courtesy or for another reason, the man is not easily deterred from a potentially deadly scenario. Of course, as he'd said, he has plenty of experience with strange drinks. What is daunting for her may not be so for him.

But if he is harmed, she will certainly be unleashing the wrath of her own dragons.

So Maleficent moves with him that way, towards the bar, gazing around at the wall of drinks lined up and sparkling, the brilliant human concoctions. She can smell them; they're very potent. The fey lifts a slender hand, gesturing slowly around; it should be his decision which one to sample. "Do you have a preference?"
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (pic#14784903)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 10:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Maleficent continues to listen to his ideas, genuinely giving them thought. The masks... removed with a secret. If that is true, then the magic binding the adornments to their faces is indeed highly powerful. It's...... a personal magic, tailored to each one of them, to what's in their hearts.

Oh no, she very, very much does not like this. Her expression sours as she glowers around the room again, taking in the various types of masks on all of the attendees.

"Yes — secrets, even the weak ones, are.... along the same severity as promises," she gives a slight nod to his words, looking back to the young man. "To share a secret is to expose part of one's spirit. It can be very dangerous. ....And what will they do with their little collection of acquired secrets, I wonder?"

It sounds like ammunition to be used against them, in her opinion. Regarding what may happen if they don't speak a secret, though.... it certainly is a deep concern. Slowly, she reaches up to touch her own mask, fingertips pressing against its lace.

"If this magic is powerful enough... we may be punished if we do not acquiesce. We could even die." ....She's certainly no optimist, but this isn't even Maleficent being negative right now; she's simply being realistic. Magic can drain the very life out of something.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (pic#14784861)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)
He's speaking out loud to someone who isn't there again — Maleficent stares, her eyes starting to shift colour: the golden melting into a sort of green. He's either truly unhinged or attempting to unsettle her on purpose, and no matter which way it may be, she has no time for this.

.....Angelina Jolie? What is this Angelina Jolie?? What a peculiar name.

The only reason she hasn't gone full Maleficent: Mistress of Evil on him is due to her shock — but that's quickly bubbling into anger — and the fact he clearly has some power of his own. If he were a normal man, she would be sending him across the room right about now. But that one little fact keeps her from doing such, even though that venomous green of her eyes is beginning to flicker up in her irises like angry flame.

"....You were experimented on?" She's trying to keep up with him. He has been mutated.... She's heard of experiments, as of late. Atrocities committed against the fae, but he is... a human? His own kind did this to him?

Admittedly, she's curious, even as she's giving him the death glare, listening to him prattle on about death wishes. Of course, it's right about then that he reaches up and grabs one of her horns, and all snippets of curiosity or respect of his powers goes out the window. Maleficent's eyes flash and the acerbic green colour flickers from her very body, her magic revving up. An arm snaps up so that her hand can catch his throat, and she squeezes it — long, sharp nails curving around and inwards, most certainly cutting in.

"I shall show you what happens if someone touches them." Her voice is ice-cold, her jaw tight. "Can your healing ability work even if you die? Or if you're in pieces...? Little ones, strewn all around."