Destination: Carcosa

[polymods]

✖ 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!

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Comments

[medeiun]

[ It's not exactly stubbornness she's clinging onto, here (though she can certainly be stubborn). It's... a fear, and that too is something she's averse to admit in herself, that she should feel fear. Maleficent has taken great measures in her life to make certain there is very little left that can cause her fear. This.... unknown.... it does frighten her. Not because she fears pain, or suffering. She has known those things too well.

She fears not returning home, to her daughter. And if the powers here choose to turn against them, or show some dark true goal? She could be destroyed. Or trapped here forever. That is what she fears.

It makes her... oddly torn. He's right; examining the thing more closely may be the only way to understand more about it, ironically. But she's reluctant, her nerves showing themselves a bit more openly now: nostrils flaring, wings restlessly shifting, eyes just a little wide. ]

I agree. ...On both counts. [ It's a frustrating paradox, isn't it? Not a bright idea to get closer, yet having to get closer to figure out more. ]

...But of the curses with which I am familiar, a thing requires touch to truly activate. So perhaps.... [ She finds herself faltering a little in favour of perhaps drawing closer. She doesn't want to, is fighting it within herself, and after a moment gives a rough sigh. ]

....Perhaps we could examine it with our eyes alone. From a distance still, but... closer.

[medeiun]

What is up there may very well be cursed.

[ Maleficent lets the flames vanish as quickly as they'd appeared, not wanting to spend too much of her magic just yet. She might need it for later.

His question further frustrates her; she deeply dislikes this uncertainty. She doesn't know what they ought to be doing, and therefore has not an ounce of control in this situation. It makes her feel volatile, a familiar heat curling in her gut.

She takes a breath, eyes flashing the same green colour as her magic for a moment, before they settle back down into gold. She must... attempt to be calm. To form a plan. After a long moment's silence, she looks back to the man, not exactly answering his question outright, but... it's an answer of her own. ]

Are you at all familiar with magic? Have you ever been exposed to it? Or are you only an average human? [ ....Is there a hint of disdain when she says that? She can't help it. But she has a reason for asking. ]

[medeiun]

[ Pardon? A connection? Does this ghastly person suggest that they have met? Maleficent could laugh, only she's too busy still glowering. She does give a 'tch' sound, and drawls a beat after— ]

I dare say, I would not have forgotten encountering you.

[ "Encountering", like the blonde is some creature in the forest she ran into, instead of a person to meet like normal people do (which......) Social niceties are not the fey's forte in general, much less to be spared on a woman whom she's still largely assuming is human. A woman who's managed to break into and shatter Maleficent's comfort zone in record timing. She's gazing coldly at those bright eyes through the wolf's mask, lifting her own eyebrows once more as the woman speaks. 'I'm a werewolf.'

And the mask is removed, not without some force, but even so. The fey is staring with a different intensity now, partly due to the display of the mask removing — the woman... was right — but mostly for what was said.

A wolf in the barn, a huge white thing with gleaming teeth and bright eyes. A beautiful and intelligent creature, something ancient and powerful: her companion for the night under the moonlight. Maleficent is leaning forwards just slightly, her dark mouth parting as her eyes scan all over the woman's face which has been revealed to her; perhaps Saxsice can hear it, the softest surprised exhale from her lips. ]

You were the wolf. ....You are a shapeshifter. [ Though unfamiliar with the term 'werewolf', she knows of those who shift form. The fey lifts a gloved hand almost like she's going to examine the woman's face, but doesn't actually touch her, just holds it there in the air, fingers curved slightly, clawlike. Her voice is quiet, almost a little awed. ]

....Do you know what I am?

I. HIGH TEMPLE + A BIT OF WILDCARD

[medeiun]

[ It is a beautiful city that sparkles there in the distance, but as much as Maleficent can appreciate its gilded sharp angles, its smooth extravagance (she has quite a flair of her own for making a statement), she is also deeply unsettled by it. It's something that needles into her core, as though an attack on her very spirit. Something that sees such structures as belonging only to Mankind's imagination, for such perfection could never be achieved in Mother Nature's realm. Tools and precision, buildings covered in gold.

It is beautiful. It is alien. And she finds herself balking from it, moving towards something that feels familiar — though she's so deeply hesitant to trust that feeling. Even as she moves through the strange shadowed hallways of the High Temple and her spirit is appeased by the sensation that drapes over her so soft and warm (to her it smells and feels like earth, like grass beneath her fingertips, like lying in the cool Moorlands and listening to the spring bubbling nearby, and for a moment she feels the freedom she felt when she was a girl).... Maleficent is suspicious of it. Nothing that isn't home should feel like it. And Aurora is not here with her.

For everything else it may be, at its core this place is a prison.

The dark fey stalks barefoot down the halls, something that is both bird of prey and woman, great wings folded behind her. The feathertips that lightly brush the ground are soft and silent, but the clawtips housed at her wing joints are a razor-sharp contrast, a reminder that she is something deadly.

For a moment, she wants to conceal herself the way she's comfortable with, a sort of mask to cover her entire body: black fabrics down to the floor, hair wrapped up in a headpiece; she feels naked like this, in the simple robe, her long hair flowing freely. If she can find some more cloth in this place, she can use her magic to craft new clothing. She passes a large bath, breathing in the scent of soaps, then steps further down those ancient halls when she hears someone coming from behind her. She's been moving slowly; if someone were heading in the same direction, they certainly could be coming up behind her any moment. Canting her head, a sharp ear indeed picks up the footsteps rounding the corner just now—

The fey turns abruptly around, wings spreading outwards a bit, as though defensively. It's half instinct and half purposeful; she fights against the peaceful lull of this place, almost wants an excuse to rear up instead, to show her thorns. So she does, to the person who comes upon her, and her golden eyes flash. ]

[medeiun]

[ Not playing along is certainly preferable to her, as well. Maleficent may not currently be fighting this with her usual outbursts (if this were a typical situation, she would simply blast her way out of this place). But she's.... trying to stay behaved, at least until more can be learned about this situation.

Still. Playing along would be giving in, and she certainly won't do that. This may not be the sort of fighting she is used to, but it's still fighting, in its way. Refusing to acquiesce. Hunting down someone, or something, to target. ]

I can sense that there is something.... strange in this place, but its source alludes me. [ If its source is even here. She frowns, not too pleased to reveal what feels like a weakness in herself, before following the movement of his hand, gazing at what adorns his wrist. Yellow.... Her own is a different hue, and she ponders revealing it to him, but decides not just yet; it's hidden under her elbow-length glove. ]

You believe such a.... device could observe us? [ She's been ignoring her own after the initial message came through. Now, though.... the fey's eyebrows knit just slightly as she stares down to his device. Suddenly it seems like a yellow eye peering outwards at her. ]

How is that possible? It is not alive. [ ...Maleficent: Mistress of Evil does not know about such technology. ]

i’m on my ipad so i’m gonna roll w the prose lol

[catlady]

“I’m assuming that you have,” she replies, an eyebrow quirked. Of course she’s tried to remove the mask, that should be everyone’s first move. That thing isn’t going anywhere, especially once she starts to realize just what it takes to remove it. She’s not big on sharing her secrets.

She wriggles the ring loose from her finger, stashing it away into the beaded bag that serves as her purse. The bag’s already stuffed full of shiny, glittering things if the other woman is curious enough to look. Selina’s really cleaned up tonight and not a single one of them has noticed anything missing. At this point she’s making a show of it because she can make a show of it, rubbing it right in everyone’s face. They certainly aren’t concerned.

“I’m not in any hurry to take off mine, are you?”

[medeiun]

[ The young woman's speaking is... strange, to say the very least, but Maleficent's able to piece together the root of it. "Ain't"?? What is that?

The little thief in the hat is suspicious. And that, too, is wise of her. It's a sentiment Maleficent certainly shares, her unease growing with each day that passes here. She balks from eating what's given to them, the supplies they're able to stock up on — sleeps only when she must, and always barely. The provisions are enough to keep them satisfied, at the least. Why? ]

Indeed. It feels rather like we're all pigs being kept locked away and fed. I wonder when the powers that be will decide we're ready to be feasted on.

[ It seems inevitable, really. Whatever true motive is at play here will be divulged, and.... and then what? Maleficent is all too ready to fight, but she also knows the importance of biding her time. Making an uproar now would draw the wrong sort of attention to herself. Better to stick to the shadows, even if she's done so wearing glinting gold, wandering the streets like some fantastical thing.

But perhaps she is not unlike this girl rummaging like a rat, scavenging. ]

And where do you plan to go? [ She wonders, tilting her head slightly. It isn't meant as a challenge, even though her cool tone is hardly friendly. She genuinely wonders. ]

[unkindled_madness]

[He drops his wrist. Alive? Well. He's never had to explain the basics of technology to someone entirely unfamiliar, but he's explained basic concepts to idiots before... She isn't an idiot, so he'll actually try not to sound condescending.]

It doesn't need to be "alive." I don't know what sort of world you come from, but we have similar technology in mine. Man-made machines for nearly instantaneous communication across significant distance.

This one is clearly capable of transmitting audio. The so-called "Voice of the Ancient" did so earlier. It's possible these devices are sending everything they hear back to our abductors, whether we activate them or not.

[He supposes there could be a magical element to it, but it's difficult to say. There's no obvious way to remove them, much less access their inner workings.]

[vladpire]

Nothing spoiled on his end. It would take more than any kind of verbal missteps to ruin his mood. That he had people to talk to that he intended to get to know better, if only to divine his reasoning for being here along with theirs, kept him amused as is. He'd been alone far too long.

"Ah, that's an interesting question. I suppose Wallachia should be my first answer, as I was born there. But that was a long time ago and I've been spending more time in more... populated areas lately. London. Paris. Moscow. There's much of Europe to enjoy visiting."

[vladpire]

"I cannot call the winds or storms to my hand anymore. Other abilities remain, but that one... well. I'm not entirely bothered by it. There was a reason it was needed that isn't required here, it seems." He's not entirely cryptic just to be cryptic, Hawks, sorry. He'd spent six hundred years watching his world grow out of the ability to accept the supernatural so easily, if at all. Now, when one thought of a witch, they either brought to mind a caricature of the Halloween pointy-hatted green witch, or they thought of the shops that had sprung up like fungi after a rain, filled with crystals and the cloying thickness of incense that lingered in one's hair and clothes long after leaving. Vlad had grown up around hedgewitches, or the knowledge that most traveling gypsy camps had at least one fortune teller or true blood-witch among them.

"Truthfully, I'm not certain I'd be all that bothered if I lost all of my... abilities and the effects that came with them."

[vladpire]

Her surprise was visible to him in the widening of her eyes and the way her body reacted to it that he could hear and smell. It made him a little sad, to be true, that such a being didn't have those around her willing to lay themselves down at her feet for her pleasure. He imagined her in his world, just standing as she was, and he couldn't imagine men and women alike not being in awe of her. Oh, there'd be those who feared her as well, but there were those that feared everything that was different than they. Perhaps it was because he was mostly human, she seemed not to have too fond a relationship to them. In that, he couldn't blame her either. Her compliment, for that's what it was, had him laughing, flashing teeth that had been called fangs long before he'd gained true fangs of his own. "You flatter me, Lady. But as I'm merely a male, my ego thanks you for it."

She seemed to accept his offer, and they went over to where the drinks were. He could smell the sting of them as well, perusing the options and looking back at her with a musing look. "My preference is not important here, Lady. But I have tried nearly all of what lays available here, so let's see if I might come up with something that's to your taste, mm? Wine is too obvious, though I'm certain you'd enjoy it. How about... ah." He reached for a reddish drink, lifting it to his nose to sniff lightly to make sure it was what he thought it was. A small sip, a pause, just to see for her sake if there was anything questionable in it beside the alcohol itself. "I think you'll like this."

[kneecaptain]

"You think we should maybe be heading back?" Something about the fog disturbs him, but he can't put a finger on what. An instinct, maybe, born from the war, or a tendency to see the demons in the shadows, from the same place. Either way, his muscles tense.

Bucky isn't a cavalier, but he's trying to be a shield. So he isn't planning on leaving a stranger alone on the beach. Even if her songs are really creepy. (Doom, gloom, womb, consume. Jesus.)

[grayshulk]

"There's an evil skull on another altar looking thing that appears to be a trap. You get hypnotized by the skull, and then undead things start coming out of the water and the sand. Get off the beach and they go back to being dormant."

Jennifer manages to look pretty sincere about her description of the events without ever quite having the expectation that Nile will accept the description of what happened. It is, after all, a pretty outrageous claim even in their current surroundings.

[mrfuckwit]

There aren't any "magic" users in my world from what I know. Just demons. Demons eating people. Demons possessing people. They're just trying to reclaim the land they had before humans took it from them.

_{[ Why is he.. like.. sounding nonchalant or even defensive about all of this? ]}

How else do humans act in your world? They sound like jerks too.

[mrfuckwit]

H.. Honestly, I couldn't believe it either. And.. I don't know. That's why I've been sparing you the details. I'm hoping maybe.. now that I've thought about it more.. maybe I won't fail again. Maybe I could actually save someone.

I could save you, maybe, from what it is to come. Or not come. I can't forgive you, but maybe I could help you.

_{[ Akira places a hand on his own chest, trying to steady his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales. His eyes flutter shut, but he seems completely stable. ]}

You should know this, though. I will fight you if I have to and I will not have mercy.

[necrosaint]

"Oh," says Harrow, and she blinks at the offered cloth, and blinks at Maleficent herself and where it had come from. It takes her a second to accept it and use it to dab at her eyes, to wipe away the blood that spilt from them. No more comes forth, at least. "Thank you," she finally remembers to say.

She does not look that appreciative, but her tone is softly such. Her expression still gives away nothing, stoic and emotionless.

"I am sorry to have necessitated damage to your robes."

[necrosaint]

She considers Bucky, then holds up a finger as if to sample the fog. She's actually just trying to concentrate and see if she can sense anything spirtually amiss, the way Augustine wanted her to know how to do. The way she had wanted herself to know how to do, and had left herself a strongly-worded letter to that effect.

And yet: nothing. Harrow has failed again. The broken Lyctor.

But even a broken Lyctor can sense the growth of thanergy nearby, and can sense how this approach is going to go. "It might be wise," she says.

[necrosaint]

Oh, I can use it.

[ Harrow is insistent as she picks up the knife, preparing to make from it a construct of a human skeleton. She tosses it out again, more up int he air and a little bit forward toward the approaching horde.

Unfortunately for Harrow, this is ivory.

That doesn't mean necromancy doesn't work. On the contrary, it works very well, and creates something much larger than Harrow was intending: it's just that Harrow has never seen an elephant before, and that is what she's gotten. An Indian-sized elephant, but still huge: bones and ligaments and tendons, an ambulatory elephant skeleton, awaiting her command. ]

Erm. That—that is not exactly—

[ Then she lets out an exasperated sigh and gives up. There's still an approaching zombie issue, and giant four-legged things with big sticky-out pointy teeth are going to have to do. The elephant drops a tusk, then grows it back, and it turns into another elephant, who spawns a third, and Harrow sends them running at the undead.

Somewhat snarkily, she says: ]

Will that do?

[necrosaint]

[ Alas, Harrow genuinely took that question seriously—sometimes, sarcasm doesn't fall quite right with her even if she is one of the most sarcastic people that the Ninth House has ever produced. But alcohol is not her specialty by any means.

Not showing as much skin, though, is much appreciated. She is not someone who would smile at a stranger, but she does step backward into the opened jacket, offering a mild-mannered but appreciative response. ]

Much more. Thank you.

Re: Questions, comments, concerns?

[necrosaint]

So Harrow is now using an elephant skeleton construct to fight off the zombies with/for Anne ... is that going to work or just make them angrier?

[what_fourth_wall]

"Oh yeah, but I was dying so I checked myself into that place to be experimented on. In retrospect, a pretty shitty life decision. Pro-tip: If you are dying of cancer, just go ahead and die of cancer. It's better than weird government experimentation."

He contemplates this for a moment. "Although...if I'd followed that advice, I'd just be a nobody instead of Marvel's biggest cash cow. I'm absolutely better than Wolverine. Don't let anybody tell you any different. Sure, he has a book now and I don't, but that's only tempHURK!"

His ramble is cut off mid-sentence by a strong grip closing off his windpipe. Also puncturing it with fancy nails. Can't forget the punctures.

"..aw...you done got your nails did...just for me...my windpipe is...honored! They so...pretty!!! No seriously...who does your nails....I need a rec..."

He is kind of flopping and flailing against her, but how much of that is pain and how much is him just taking full advantage of being this close to Maleficent? All of the ellipses are labored, bubbling breaths with a punctured windpipe though so that much at least is legit.

"I wouldn't....do that...." He actually sounds serious. Sort of. "Unless...you want...extra me's....that are just the worst..."

[polymods]

The zombies operate under usual zombie rules, so if the elephant skeleton destroys the brain that will work just fine!

[kneecaptain]

He nods, not understanding what Harrow is doing, but thankful this isn't gonna get any more awkward. This place is already creepy enough.

As he gets ready to leave, though, the skull catches his eye— a glint in the sand, reflecting a light that isn't there. He stops, hesitates just long enough for something with limbs to stumble out of that fog.

[neverrefuse]

"New face isn't too bad, yeah? Bit different than what I've been used to, but I think it's an upgrade. I like not having to shave my face anymore." The Doctor isn't avoiding anything, it's just a symptom of the way her mind flits from topic to topic.

She puts her hand over River's hand on the corner of her cheek and brings her brain back around to the topic at hand. "I think you know what secrets you harbour way better than I do, sweetie."

[outofdenile]

"...they go back to being dormant. Just like that?" Nile is clarifying. Her life has been a successive series of 'wtfs' since she died, but this is a big one. "And you're talking like... zombies, like the B-list movies moving more on instinct than on thought, right?"