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

dothelokimotion: (We were only a series of selves)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-05-02 10:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ loki simply looks on, impassive. he hardly cuts an intimidating figure, dressed in a black suit than his usual leathers and his crown is nowhere to be seen. at the most, he appears to be a tall, gaunt dispassionate stranger. he eyes the grip like it doesn't register to him. ]

Well, then. This is a poor place to lay down and die.
dothelokimotion: (We are all invincible to bullets)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-05-02 10:09 am (UTC)(link)
[ loki sighs, annoyed. ]

You're ruining my fun.
aviate: (( hj ) bring it)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-05-02 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[That's actually pretty reassuring to hear. Hal might be down his greatest strength, but Bruce stood up with them against some of the most powerful beings in the universe and triumphed over them with nothing but his wits.]

If it's just us then the Corps and the League can handle things on the home front. We can focus on this.
aviate: (( hj ) don't be mean)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-05-02 01:22 pm (UTC)(link)
What did I do?
suckonthis: (no this is laced with drugs)

[personal profile] suckonthis 2021-05-02 01:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He has a few secrets, although the major one is unknown. There's another rather troubling one buuut... ]

I'm not old enough to drink?

[ He's not offering it right away. He tugs and meets resistance yet again. ]

Oh, come on! Nobody here knows that!

[ especially the servers he had been freeing of their wares. ]
unkindled_madness: (curiosity)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 01:33 pm (UTC)(link)
Couple questions!

1 - Would the characters be able to find a map anywhere (like on the ships or in a library or something), and if so, would it show anything beyond the island and the surrounding sea?

2 - Do the beach zombies operate similar to standard zombies? Gotta destroy the brain to kill 'em?
unkindled_madness: (dangerous)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 02:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth releases him the moment it becomes clear he's come out of it, though he doesn't back away, and that proximity coupled with the expression on his face can only be intimidating. It's meant to be. He glances aside at the mask, then back at the stranger.

For him to expect retaliation, it was no simple fantasy. Whatever this man is, it should be no concern of his, but it's gotten under his skin. His claims of resurrection, alteration... Taking what had been a human life and changing it into...]


Was that truly something from your reality? That fool experiment?
unkindled_madness: (talking)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Beyond appearance, I couldn't tell you.

[He's seen plenty of corpses, and he's heard of the concept of the walking dead, but zombies aren't really his genre.]

I expect they mean to kill us.

[That statement isn't entirely without emotion; it's a laughable idea, that this shambling collection of dead things could kill him. And maybe that kind of confidence is reassuring.

He's armed only with the small knife he took from the temple, but he hasn't drawn it, yet, because that seems like it would get messy. A glance out of the corner of his eye tells him Simon hasn't made any move to flee. So, when the first zombie reaches him, Sephiroth sidesteps its grasping arms, grabs it by the neck, and hurls it back into the other approaching undead.]
mrfuckwit: (( 85. ))

temple

[personal profile] mrfuckwit 2021-05-02 02:33 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Kyna will see that Akira has already polished off several plates and he's still alive so there's probably no need to worry about being poisoned or anything like that. When she sits down (either across from him or next to him) he reaches over and tries to help himself to something on her plate, especially if it's meat.

um I'm sorry he used to be a well mannered kid and then he became feral i'M SORRY... ]


If they do, so what?

[ wow this guy.. so dismal...
Akira pauses and glances at Kyna. ]


Oh, wait. Were you going to finish this?

[ WHY ELSE WOULD SHE PUT IT ON HER PLATE SHE HASN'T EVEN TAKEN A BITE YET.. AKIRA!! ]
cryptsleeper: (Increase bad thoughts)

Alucard | Castlevania

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2021-05-02 02:37 pm (UTC)(link)
IV. Lost Carcosa

[Alucard has no love of the church and it's holy mysteries, but he understands the enshrinement of the remains of saints. Their bones, their most incorruptible parts, they're encased in precious metals and studded with jewels. In the low candle lighting of churches, the bones and flesh shine, a beacon of the divine for those who believe. For those who see the world as they think it is, not for it's true nature.

So it must go with this skull as it stares up from an ancient nest upon the beach. The lighting is terrible, but isn't that always the point? It draws the eye towards it. The scent that hangs in the air dances a line between a holy incense or smells used for entombment, and Alucard can't determine which.

He glares at the thing, offended by the rising to sit.]


It seems unfair that a memento mori such as yourself will not be as articulate as you demand of others.

[There's no response. Why would there be? A saint's bones do not need to speak, they only need to inspire.

The dhampir scowls.]


Whatever you think you can force out of me can wait a while longer.

[Into the fog. Into the darkness, whose embrace feels far more welcome, the low cover growing thicker and thicker. There's a point where the ocean and the horizon line become one and--

--gold eyes glare out from what Alucard thinks to be the ocean now, the fog so thick that it is impossible to tell. What sends him reeling is the stench of wet, especially as a bloated hand rests on his shoulders.

The sound that follows is feral, and the sudden splash of water can be heard from a distance. That's one bloated corpse pushed back into the water.]


I. The Temple
[In retrospect, talking to the compulsion skull was probably the better choice than fighting a whole bunch of wet animated corpses. Alucard can admit that much now, as he stands just outside of the temple, taking in the air. It is still night, and it seems like that may run on forever. His hair is still wet from corpse wrangling, and his clothing is only just freshly changed.

This is not a good vantage point to see the rest of the city. That's fine by him, for the art deco style runs a little too close to some of the patterns found within the castle Alucard grew up in.

He lets out a soft sigh, eyes fixed on the horizon. This place seemed to swell with celebrations late into the night, music seeming to echo from every part of the city.]


Mm. This seems the only quiet place here save the shoreline.

Wildcard
Alucard's going to be sticking on the outskirts for the first few days before getting his exploration on. Feel free to PM me if you want something specific!
unkindled_madness: (talking)

i

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[Temples are foreign things to Sephiroth. Religion has largely fallen out of fashion in Midgar, and actual worship of the gods is the realm of Wutai, his enemy. This temple and its effigy hold no meaning for him, but that doesn't mean there's nothing another might interpret.

Not that he likes relying on others, but he isn't above asking the man nearby:]


Do you recognize it?
neverwither: (Curious Chloe)

Chloe | Detroit: Become Human | OTA

[personal profile] neverwither 2021-05-02 03:08 pm (UTC)(link)
THE MASQUERADE

Chloe is no stranger to social events. Well, the circumstances of her being there at all and being there alone aside. Without a familiar arm to hold, she drifts throughout the crowd and takes it all in. Amidst the general party hubbub, there’s the echo of ‘it’s a secret’. High society parties are always full of games and while this event might not be one of those, exactly, it seems to be no less true.

On a passing glance it might not seem like the blonde is wearing a mask at all. All the polite smiles she offers to passing guests are lost underneath the unmoving features of hard, rigid plastic. Several subtle attempts are made to pry the thing off but it shows no signs of budging.

The other detail of note seems to be several of the attendees sporting a yellow pin. Without a record of the symbol within her system, the android is as lost as anyone else may be. With that thought in mind, she turns to another who’s been adorned with the symbol. Her tone is light, suggesting that all of this is perfectly fine and nothing at all to be concerned about, and the smile that can’t be seen is at least present in her eyes.

“I was once told that having the same accessory as your fellow guests is a dreadful faux pas.”



LOST CARCOSA

Apparently even a simple walk along the beach isn’t quite so simple. The sound of the waves and the sensation of the sand underneath her bare feet should all be soothing. It’s not entirely surprising that they’re not. Still, Chloe tries to make it as relaxing as any other beach she’s strolled along.

It could have worked, if not for that pesky skull.

The sight alone is enough to make Chloe stop in her tracks. Kneel down in the sand to take a closer look. She’s never seen human remains before, and certainly not just sitting there out in the open.

Managing to take her gaze away from it, she glances around for some figure of authority. Surely the remnants of what used to be a person shouldn’t just be… sitting there like that? Surely someone should take care of such important matters?

But there’s Chloe and a smiling skull, strangely beautiful with its jewels. Pondering who it may have been, she finds herself drawn in further and further.

“I…”

Why is she trying to speak? Why the feeling of wanting, needing, to say…

No. One doesn’t talk about unseemly things. Unnecessary things. That which is gone isn’t anyone else’s burden.



WILDCARD

[ If you’d like to do a thing, let’s do a thing! You can get me at [plurk.com profile] Another_thoughts_hat or PM ]
unkindled_madness: (wary)

i

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth's gaze is more a calculating one than an admiring one. They arrived here by ship, after a fashion; can they return the same way?

He wasn't expecting to be addressed, and certainly not in such a friendly tone. He'll reply, but his tone is considerably more reserved, even guarded.]


...no. But it's certainly worth the consideration.

[He doesn't take it for a joke. The reasons for asking seriously are too obvious.]
evocation: (LM5turtleduck)

[personal profile] evocation 2021-05-02 03:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[Kyna's response is instantaneous, ingrained from growing up with a sibling who ate too much. She reaches out to slap Akira's hand, looking deeply offended.]

I didn't even start it. God. And what do you mean, so what?
unkindled_madness: (arms folded)

I.

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 03:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth may have no particular qualms about this woman's obvious thievery, but he isn't, himself, a thief. By now he's purchased some plain clothes with the meagre funds provided him, so that he doesn't have to walk around in that stupid robe, but that's about it. Which may seem somewhat in conflict with the obvious vanity of having hair that long.

He's maybe a bit wary of a woman asking his opinion about some aspect of her appearance, but not so much that he'll outright ignore her. He'll just attempt to preemptively shut it down.]


Aren't there more useful things you could apply your talents to?
cryptsleeper: (impale with great prejudice)

Lost Carcosa

[personal profile] cryptsleeper 2021-05-02 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
I've noticed!

[Alucard's reply is sharp as any sword, having just received a bloated hand on his shoulder. The fog is an absolute nightmare right now, and as he opens his mouth to speak again, a particular issue occurs to him.

His eyes are the same color as these corpses, and that is going to get confusing very fast. The dhampir is ready to warn whoever it is calling through the fog of that fact, but there's a corpse trying to give him a hug instead, dragging him into the briny sea. There's a few moments of silence, then a loud splash. A corpse smacking into the water.]


Is the fog thinner where you are?

[A retreat is in order, but a signpost is needed. Voice should be enough for now.]
unkindled_madness: (arms folded)

ii.

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Then sleep.

[Sephiroth came here for the same reason, actually, and he doesn't know why she feels the need to announce it to him. He leans back into the seat he's chosen in the back, arms folded, closing his eyes, but she goes on talking. And this theatre has unfortunately good acoustics.

At her last admission, he lets out a sigh and looks back at her across the theatre, his eyes glinting in the low light.]


Is there some reason you're making a total stranger your confidant?
sketchbookings: (086)

ii: the masquerade

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-02 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
While Benedict's spent plenty of time trying to avoid parties, he finds himself feeling something like relief when the masquerade presents itself. The manner of dress might be a bit strange, but a well fitting suit is a well fitting suit, and the whole mood of the thing is steeped in familiarity.

Benedict's certainly not going to pass it up.

Besides, a party is a good place to meet people, and he very much wants friends - or at least acquaintances - as he moves forward in this odd place. He flashes a smile to a man that's moving nearby.

"That's quite the mask," he says, referring to the dragon design. "It rather puts mine to shame, I should think."
sketchbookings: (002)

I. The Temple

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-02 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
"Did you just make that up?"

Benedict's found his way to the temple, too. To him, it had made the most sense, as temple is not unlike a church (more or less), and churches are places of help and charity. While he can't decide if he's ever been particularly religious - he goes to church the same as everyone else - he can appreciate the goodwill that comes from such places.

And he hadn't meant, really, to sneak up on the man, but Benedict seen him standing there looking at something and then had heard him speak.

"It's quite good, if you did."
sketchbookings: (058)

iii. lost carcosa

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-02 05:55 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It turns out, neither of them are quite as alone as they thought they were, because Benedict is also out walking the beach this night. He's not sure why. He's not the sort to stray away from the safety of what he knows (even if he's only known this place for a day or two), but perhaps it's the way everything's overwhelming. He hasn't given himself much opportunity to let it all sink in, and now the stretch of the beach seems like a welcome reprieve.

The salty air is refreshing as he breathes it in, hoping to clear his mind. That's when he hears her.

At first, he's worried he's stumbled upon a private conversation. Not very polite or becoming, to seem as though he's eavesdropping, but he realizes there's only one voice. All the more reason to go, really. Does he want to find himself alone with someone not feeling quite themselves? Not really, but he also can't leave a woman in distress, either, so he exhales through his nose and towards the voice.
]

Are you all right?

medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

ii: The Masquerade

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-02 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
The laughter and music make Maleficent nervous, like a forewarning of something dark to come. (Relax and enjoy a party? The Mistress of Evil? Could it be possible? Most likely not.) Even on the ground she is like a bird of prey more than a woman, something tall and sweeping and sharp.

The dress is reminiscent of what the humans around her are wearing (a tacky little thing, she thinks, with its tassels hanging down. At least the Powers That Be had the sense to make it black for her). Her long hair and great horns are wrapped up in a headpiece, and her mask is a concoction of lacy swirls and raven feathers. With her own large wings held behind her, Maleficent certainly stands out, though perhaps they might be mistaken as further decoration for this whole.... masquerade.

It takes her a moment to recognise the man she had met under the moonlight: the man of many titles and many years, the man who could shatter into countless winged things. When she does, Maleficent's dark lips twitch and she moves to him, silent and smooth, one masked thing approaching another.

"A dragon," she remarks by way of greeting, lifting a gloved hand between them, fingers gesturing upwards to the steely mask upon his face. Something that may almost be fond curves her mouth; she has relied on dragons of her own. But she remembers one of the titles he'd shared with her — son of the dragon. This place indeed knows what adornments to give them. "It suits you."
mrfuckwit: (( 64. ))

[personal profile] mrfuckwit 2021-05-02 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Ow! Hey!

[ Akira withdraws his hand without any food and rubs it with his other hand, looking equally offended. You started this, buddy, don’t get mad at her. ]

I mean, who cares! We are stuck here, basically kidnapped. And back home, I don’t have anything anyway. What more can I lose?

[ He pauses then crosses his arms over his chest. ]

It doesn’t make sense for them to poison something for us if they want us to live and grow and whatever. I don’t trust them either but I just don’t think it makes sense for them to actively harm us.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

i. masquerade

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-02 06:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ The voice of a woman catches Maleficent's attention — not a timid sound, but a purposeful one, argumentative even. She finds herself moving closer before she can think about it (a woman arguing: it alerts her) and like some watchdog she suddenly appears nearby, a sweeping black feathered thing. Maleficent's own attire is a stark contrast to the blonde's pink and cream: her dress, gloves, and mask are all black, as well as the headpiece that covers her hair and horns.

Only it becomes clear after a few seconds of listening further to this exchange that the woman is not in some peril — she's simply asking for something from the bartender. Variety, she says. After a moment, Maleficent flatout interrupts, voice clipped and dry: ]


Perhaps you could convince them to offer something that is actually drinkable.

[ Yes, she is very much judging the alcohol she has not at all tasted for herself. It smells strange and humans made it, so it must be awful, of course. The fairy lifts her chin, taking in the sight of the woman (ignoring the bartender; she doesn't really have any concern for you) — the wolf mask upon her face. Perhaps she should recognise her, and perhaps something up in her does sense the wolf in the woman, but her own powers are hazier here, and for now, the woman only registers as some dimly familiar thing to Maleficent's own ancient spirit. ]
incelligent: (35)

[personal profile] incelligent 2021-05-02 07:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[He is eighteen, but years of living on limited supplies and a recent growth spurt have made him scrawny, all skin and bone and lean muscle. That and he's been isolated from anyone older than himself since he was only ten years old, so Simon, while perfectly proficient in building booby traps and scaling walls, struggles with simple things. Like understanding why people act the way they do.

And feeling empathy for them. He may say he cares for Grace and that they are a team, but really, it's all about him. She is his lifeline, because without her, he is incomplete, utterly miserable and lacking any and all sense of direction.

Like right now.
]

I'm blending in.

[Simon is determined to find out how this stupid redemption game works. So he can bend the rules and cheat his way out.]

How can you just be okay with this?

[Everyone else that he's met so far has been handling things so much more ease than Simon himself. He chocks it up to foolishness, theirs not his, which is how it's always been.]
sequinns: (mx_xjqRiOJ4wZWUJ90I46)

Harley Quinn | DCEU

[personal profile] sequinns 2021-05-02 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
♦️ Ⅱ. THE MASQUERADE ♦️

Harley isn’t surprised at all about her mask, a black and red, over-the-top harlequin-esque thing that’s heavy and bold. The dress she finds herself in is similar, something that screams Look At Me as loudly as possible. Difficult to move around in even though Harley makes it look effortless.

Fashion is pain.

She’s spent a good deal of time inspecting the mask in a mirror before going to join the party, wanting to have some idea of what to expect when she does. So far, other than the yellow pin, she hasn’t figured it out.

She might be impulsive and, frankly, unreasonable, but Harley’s smart enough to know that when you’re in a weird as fuck situation you assess it. While still looking like you’re having the time of your life.

She’s drinking champagne, mingling and laughing and leaving people without any real sense of who she is behind her mask, gathering what little information seems to be up for grabs. And what she’s gathered is this: the masks don’t come off unless you reveal a secret, a really good one.

Harley’s not one to shy away from talking about herself. Except that talk is typically all surface bullshit, the sort of thing people would expect from a ditzy blonde. She doesn’t usually talk about her feelings — the real ones, bubbling just underneath the surface, the ones that could actually hurt her. She’s always left that to her patients.

Still, she’s not sure yet whether someone confiding in her might make serve the same purpose and, while she’s in no rush to take off her (if she does say so herself) beautiful mask, she also doesn’t want it burned into her face. She has enough scars and tattoos. She doesn’t need another reminder of her life before getting kicked out in the rain by the Joker.

Harley’s holding a champagne flute in each hand as she turns to someone passing by, offering one up. “Drink?”


♦️ Ⅲ. THE PLAY ♦️

Parties are her style. But so is exploring.

When Harley finds herself in the theater, she’s surprised there aren’t more people there. But she’s always loved holing up in the corner of a theater with a gigantic box of popcorn and watching movies alone or with one other person to canoodle with. This isn’t so bad.

The mask though, that she feels drawn to when the curtains part and it’s how she ends up on the stage, running a glittery pink fingernail over the smooth surface. It’s blank, clean, pristine even. Open to all sorts of possibilities. That’s her first thought, odd as it is.

And when she notices movement out of the corner of her eye, her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. Because as her vision blurs and refocuses that approaching person goes from being an unfamiliar fellow spectator to a green-haired, leather-jacket wearing, tattooed and scarred monster. Her hands clench and she straightens, immediately forgetting that, whoever this is, they hadn’t been her ex just a moment earlier. That this might just be her eyes playing tricks on her. Making a perfect stranger look like someone they’re not.

You!”

Not that she wants to rip his head off or anything.


♦️ WILDCARD ♦️

If you'd like to write something else entirely, feel free to tag in with a wildcard prompt or to send me a message that you'd like something else ([plurk.com profile] harlequeen). Totally here for zombie fights and temple stuff too if that’s more your speed. And always up for plotting if you’d like to do that before jumping into something.
Edited 2021-05-02 19:24 (UTC)