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

kyley_b: (RL outside thinkin)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-05-31 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
To be fair, it's an outlandish claim that no sane person would believe.

It's difficult to miss the change in Saxsice's posture, because she's not a normal wolf. A normal canine might start licking its butthole in front of you as a talk and it doesn't mean a thing, but one with human intelligence? It understands.

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," Kyle says. "Uhm. We don't have to talk about kids. I'm not having kids, so. I mean, most likely. Which my mom'll probably have a fit about." He realises he's still talking about it, so he shuts his mouth and focuses on picking wolf hair off of his trousers.
what_fourth_wall: (Eh!)

[personal profile] what_fourth_wall 2021-05-31 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
"Never knew...impatience was a thing for you...interesting..."

Those movies, man. They could never capture the whole story, could they? Or had she been impatient in the movies? It was entirely possible he hadn't been paying quite enough attention for some reason or another. Or he'd just been ogling her the whole time. That was a pretty bad habit of his, too.

"Oh...we're going for...intimacy now...life dream...achieved..." Of course, her demands for answers can't be ignored forever. This isn't her movie - this is the real deal threatening him with death and dismemberment for not answering her in a prompt fashion.

"Once I had a big fan...she collected my lost body parts and...put them in a fridge. They regenerated...into another whole...me. I had to fight...him. Me. Whoever. It...wasn't fun. He was...a jerk. Also...way less...handsome. Definitely not your...type. Not like...me."
what_fourth_wall: (Default)

[personal profile] what_fourth_wall 2021-05-31 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, they're wrong, obvs." He rolls his eyes. "I would know. I've boned her."

It isn't that he misses the look, but more that he overlooks it. Her look isn't the reason he catches himself. In that regard, he really is showing his incredibly sporadic considerate side, generally reserved for the people genuinely respects for some reason or another. Of course, everything he said was perfectly honest from his innate objectification of her to his desire not to objectify her because he knew for a fact she was very sensitive to that these days.

"I guess you're right. Maybe. But I mean, look at the others. Bruce and Amadeus have bulges where they shouldn't. Gross. And the red ones are not exactly with us any more. And the others are objectively not as sexy as you for reasons I could list if I wanted to but I don't because now I'm distracted by needing to know if your hulky self has different colors. You should change, like right now. See what happens!!! You know you wanna."
queenking: ([up] on the sidelines)

[personal profile] queenking 2021-06-01 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
Awww, bummer. [Saxsice sidles past Sephiroth, stretching her arms above her head like the theater had somehow made her claustrophobic.] Never spent the night in a creepy haunted theater before.
queenking: ([neutral] angelic)

[personal profile] queenking 2021-06-01 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
There's a grumbly sound, and then Saxsice stands up, shaking herself all over, like a dog who's just gotten out of the bath. There's a lot of wolf fluff flying all over -- like, an unrealistic amount, a veritable cloud of fur. And then --

"No, you're fine, just a touchy subject." The voice comes from the middle of the fur cloud, accompanied by the sound of Saxsice spitting out a mouthful of fuzz. "Ugh. Blech. But yeah, I was human all nine months. You're right about that." More spitting. Presumably she's just chilling clothes-less on the stage, but there's so many clumps of fur still stuck to her that it's not noticeable at all.
unkindled_madness: (talking)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-06-01 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth does feel a little more at ease as he steps out into the lobby, but he's not nearly so expressive about it. He shrugs at her joke.]

You still could, but you'll be on your own.

[Maybe that's an upside. He knows he isn't good company.]
hostile_encounter: (56)

[personal profile] hostile_encounter 2021-06-01 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
Her initial instinct is, of course, to be a bit cynical, but the gangly redhead really does seem to be sincere.

"I suppose that is an improvement from the initial arrival."
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-01 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ Anders considers that hand for a moment, before he actually decides to take it. Not because he's hesitant, or judging, but because it's just another one of those awfully rare and incredibly novel things that one certainly wouldn't encounter in the normal course of things, where he's from. Just a random stranger, making a deal with a mage. Almost as if he's an equal.

His hand is warm, but no more than it should be, naturally. If there was any flame there at all, one wouldn't know it from just a touch. ]


Not at all. The more the merrier, that's what I say.
nightschool: (🖋️ 03)

it's a new month, you know what that means 😎 finally tagging last month

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-01 09:49 am (UTC)(link)
[The daemon remains undecided how the temple makes him feel. And as it should be; he is ever a creature of duality and conflict. It would be a strange day indeed if he had bargained the alienness of this new land for a suddenly clear grasp of his own internal landscape, darkened and full of dead ends and blind alleys even to him.

At times he fancies he can catch a whiff of lavender rising off the aged stones and for a beat he almost manages to forget. Then his heart thuds again as if in defiance of his laxness, and he remembers with the sudden inevitable wave of grief. Relief and bereavement, ebbing and flowing like the tide, much as wonder and disdain. He is a man of intellect and has no use for faith, and yet--and yet, true to his very contrary core, he can't help wandering the temple, drinking it in, reminded of the temple to the goddess outside Sept-Tours Matthew had once shown him.

Matthew. Don't think about him. If you think about him, you'll stop and you won't start again--

A wearh's keen hearing might have detected the brush of feathers and padding bare feet; a witch's second sight might have seen the blaze of green-gold magic lighting up the corridors. But he is neither, and has neither to such honed degrees, and his attention isn't even on what lay ahead but on everything else: window views, and open doorways, and the floor under his feet (they yearn for better shoes after the trek here).

He sees the shadow she casts first, the vaguest impression of a human figure that goes awry and misshapen around the shoulders and the crown of the head--

And then he looks up at the source and sees her, horn and arched wings and eyes a-glow. His own eyes round to show their whites. His lips part. But once again, he finds himself undecided what emotion he should scream with, should such a forceful response find the energy to make the climb from his throat. Surprise? Fear? Amazement? In the end, nothing comes. He'd spent all his screams on Matthew.

He'd also thought he was coming near to spending all his awe for one day--but the she-bird proves him wrong in that, too.]
kyley_b: (RL muppet)

[personal profile] kyley_b 2021-06-01 06:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Kyle notices, and immediately sets about finding Saxsice's dress. It's destroyed, so he gives up on that and instead takes his jacket off and hands it to her while looking elsewhere. He's blushing bright pink.

"Yeah. Sorry about bringing it up. I think I have a talent for just stumbling over the most sensitive subjects." Still not looking at her.

"That was really cool, though. The transformation thing. Not nearly as scary as I was expecting."
omertae: (• i've got to tell it with a fist)

this is ancient i'm so sorry

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-01 10:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Whoops. Angelo's eyebrows raise sharply behind his mask as the bartender rushes off to do as she said. Well, that's definitely one way to get things done – he kind of has to respect it, even if it seems like a little bit of an overreaction, and he'd know all about that.

He has a casual sip, waiting, watching. The bartender comes pelting back, skidding to a halt with the bottle of amber liquid clutched tightly in his fist. He looks for a moment like he's considering asking her if she wants a glass with ice, and then – smart man, Angelo thinks – he just sets the bottle down on the bartop and skitters off to go serve someone else. ]


Y'know, you could've just asked him for it.
omertae: (• nothing  can break me down)

this is SO old i'm so sorry!!

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-01 10:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Angelo's never found eye contact particularly difficult, mostly because he's never really looking with the force of his attention behind it: he always looks just past people, looking but not really seeing. Most of the time, people can't tell the difference. But if he had to put money on it, he'd guess that this woman would be able to tell.

He reaches out for her hand all the same – if anything, he feels better about doing it now. His grip is firm, his free hand reaching up to steady her with a flat touch against the blade of her shoulder. ]


I've never really understood heels. My ex, she always used to take hers off and I'd have to carry them the rest of the night. I used to think, why'd you put them on if they aren't comfortable?
omertae: (• and it goes like this)

this is ancient i'm so sorry!!

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-01 11:10 pm (UTC)(link)
That's a weird look he's getting from behind the other guy's mask. Angelo purses his lips for a moment, trying to discern what's triggering it, and then ultimately decides that he doesn't really care. People can look at him however they please.

"Brandy," he says. "Or a nice glass of wine. Red. Like a Sangiovese or something. Not like this shithole is gonna have any of that, huh."
omertae: (• i got a plan)

ancient tag is ancient

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-01 11:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That sounds a lot like he's trying to step on Angelo's territory, and Angelo can't help the peeved expression that falls over his face, lip curling. ]

Yeah, it does look like a weasel.

[ Being an asshole won't get him anywhere, Angelo knows, but fuck if he can help it. He frowns, turning a little to try to see where the guy's looking. It's the harbour, he thinks, which is the last thing Angelo wants to be looking at, and so with a little scoffing noise he turns his back on it entirely, sticking his hands stubbornly in his pockets. ]

If we don't get these things off by midnight they're gonna stay. I heard, anyway.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-01 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst?

[ He scoffs, almost managing to sound amused, and tosses a different kind of appraising look over his shoulder. If he's expecting a fight, though, it's not from another Traveler. Not at the moment, anyway. ]

I can imagine a lot worse than something trying to kill us.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-01 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
So we have something in common, after all.

[ If they're just going to be upfront about it. His expression brightens somewhat, though - and not in such an artificial way, this time. ]
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-01 11:20 pm (UTC)(link)
For once, Anders hadn't minded a moment of quiet. Usually, he can't help but fill any awkward (or pensive, or otherwise) silence that comes along, out of habit as much as for his own sanity. (He still isn't fond of the quiet.) But after that? It's impossible not to get a little lost in one's thoughts. Especially when it comes to next steps.

He practically blanches at hers (if he wasn't pale from that horrible encounter still, already), surprise cutting through the darker thoughts lurking in his expression. Also, the very uncannily similar ones.

"You can't go back out there alone," he insists, a touch incredulously. She's unarmed, and by her own profession, not exactly equipped for a fight otherwise. ...Not that he's rushing to volunteer himself, either. No matter what he was just thinking. Some foolish notions are best kept to oneself.

Not unlike his simply unparalleled - and priorly unrealized - desire to have someone call his magic amazing. Well, someone other than another mage, secretly desperate to convince themselves of the same. It's not a prevailing opinion in Thedas, outside those small circles. His expression contracts oddly, not quite a smile (too surprised) lurking under the surface, but at least that distasteful edge has mellowed out of it. "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment, in spite of how hard I've tried to be absolutely terrifying. It was all the handholding that ruined it, wasn't it?"
omertae: (• and it goes like this)

ANCIENT TAG ALERT

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-01 11:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Angelo can understand that, probably better than any of the goody-two-shoeses in this place, but it doesn't show on his face. ]

Do I look like your therapist, is that it?
unkindled_madness: (what does it matter...?)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-06-01 11:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Something like that.

[Sephiroth generally skips the first part of that saying, but realistically at least he doesn't always expect the worst.]

I'll agree, mortal danger is something of a low bar.
dothelokimotion: (Guns don’t kill people)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-02 12:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ that expression catches loki off-guard. he is proud of his magic, his skills but it is practically unheard of for anyone else to be. he's not entirely sure how to deal with it. ]

It . . . seems that way.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-02 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ironically, if their positions were reversed in this conversation, and Loki weren't of the also-magical sort, Anders would have a similar sort of trouble accepting even casual praise for magic. His or in general. He's already had a run-in or two, around here, with people who seem downright fascinated by it, rather than hateful or fearful or just plain wary.

It's absolutely bizarre. (Which is not to say he isn't absolutely enjoying it, but. There's still that obligatory, awkward moment of pause.)

But since that's not the case, now, and he's finally having a bit of fun, eliciting what appears to be a genuine response, at last, there's no hesitation, on his part. ]


Oh, don't tell me you're one of those self-loathing types - 'magic is a curse' and all that. Because that's a load of rubbish.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-02 01:35 am (UTC)(link)
Well, you're smarter than you are charming, I'll give you that.

[ It's a compliment, really.

Anders huffs, shakes his head, and starts on the short walk back down to the docks. He lifts a hand in a wave, as he goes. ]


If you find anything worthwhile, do let me know. But this feels a bit like a dead end, and I'm going to take my custom elsewhere.
dothelokimotion: (Knowledge may be terrible)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-02 01:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ loki winces because it does hit a little close to him even if it's not quite accurate. ]

No. Not at all. I'm simply unused to any kind of appreciation for magic whatsoever.
unkindled_madness: (curiosity)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-06-02 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Is it? Is it a compliment? Sephiroth's almost nonexistent charm also makes that a low-bar situation.

Well, he won't take it for an insult.]


...I may. Let you know, that is. [No promises. Anders seems competent enough, but Sephiroth doesn't have any problem with splitting up either.]

Good luck.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-02 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
Well, that's a shame.

[ Earnestly, this time, though. ]

Magic deserves appreciation. Certainly more than it gets.