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!

Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

Comments

HAHA NO WORRIES I'VE BEEN SLOW THIS PAST MONTH <3

[evocation]

Ooh, I don't know. Do you have a fancy couch I can lay on? Do you wanna ask me about my dreams?

[evocation]

You just throw salt at it. Duh. Like a demon.

[Is she being serious this time? Who can say.]

Are you gonna be my damsel in distress?

YEE HAW

[omertae]

If I knew that I wouldn't still be wearing mine.

[ That's not entirely true. Angelo's heard people talking – he'd eavesdropped a little, back inside, and heard something about sharing secrets, but fuck if he wants to do that with anyone around here. He doesn't trust anyone, and he'll go on not trusting anyone until he gets back home as far as he's concerned. His watch can turn red or black for all he cares, but he's not letting this place get the better of him.

Angelo sighs and puts his hand to his mouth in a way that betrays his desire for a cigarette better than he ever could with words. Contradicting himself, and not caring remotely about it, he says, ] We're supposed to tell each other secrets.

[medeiun]

[ Maleficent regards him carefully again, seeming almost to hesitate at the question. Has she met other humans before? Oh yes. She has met them, fallen in love with them, been torn apart by them. Hated them more than anything.

And she has nurtured one of them, grown to see what it is to love something more than you could ever love yourself. ....Divulging any of this, even at the barest minimum, is a tricky thing, however. ]

I have experience with them. Though where I am from, humans are not too favourable to my kind, and we do not cross paths often.

[ It's easier to speak about this than it is the more tender things, she finds. She has known being perceived as a monster far longer than she has anything else. ....Though this one remains strangely unbothered by her. ]

You do not seem afraid.

[bookerlesigh]

Of course she turns it back at him, and he can't help the quirk that comes to his lips, the fondness for her push back.

"This one," he says, and he's not going to subject Nicky to sub-par wine, so he places that one back on the shelf. "You didn't get it from here though."

[medeiun]

"Mingling" is certainly not her forte, and she indulges a slight amused smile of her own behind the edge of the glass before she finally lowers it, letting its distinctive taste rest within her senses. She knows of what human spirits can do — turning them into bumbling fools. Certainly it won't affect her in that way, but she will take it slowly regardless.

"I suppose fitting in would serve us well, for now," she agrees. As much as the pair of them possibly can. He may not boast a giant pair of wings, but Vlad is hardly a common man, himself. His presence is quiet, dark — shadowlike, she finds, but not in a manner that would be easily forgotten. She thinks he could easily frighten a human simply if he looked at them a certain way.

"Do drinks like this sustain you at all? Or will you need to procure blood here?" She wonders, quietly. Perhaps he can survive still on other things, or perhaps his curse limits him to that warm liquid of life alone.

[medeiun]

[ A magician — she knows enough of the term. Stage tricks, only the concept of true magic. So he is not experienced with it, and therefore is at even greater risk for what could be bound to the items on the stage.

....She could keep threatening him to keep him away from it, which is generally a reliable method Maleficent utilises. But she knows of the curiosity of young men. It is a powerful thing, a relentless one. ]

You will inevitably endanger yourself if you draw near. I shall approach it. [ She'll be careful, and if she senses anything remotely strange, she'll back away from it. But at least this way she can do the examining for them, and hopefully quench any need he might have to do it himself. Sigh. Keeping humans safe is such an odious task. ]

Would that be satisfying to your curiosity?

[dothelokimotion]

They were born with it. Their talents are innate.

[ thor is magical, regardless of whether he knows a spell or not. which . . . he doesn't. ]

[pilferings]

Cool. Good to have the confirmation.

[ Nate could lie and say he hadn't been thinking that, but it's pretty obvious he was thinking it. His expression relaxes again; back to amiable. ]

And it does seem to mean we're from a similar place. Milky Way Galaxy, Earth, right?

No worries at all!! I fizzled out of May so hard tbh

[medeiun]

[ He doesn't seem nervous of her, but she's learned that the humans here often aren't. Perhaps he thinks her eccentrics are part of the costume — or perhaps he doesn't. She'll observe for now, see what she makes of him. Everyone here could be a potential threat or of a potential use.

And so she lets him touch her, her hand cooly resting in his, his other at her shoulder. She's a thorny creature, sharp — the angles of her bones slant, thin. Slowly, Maleficent removes the heels one at a time, holding them both pinched inbetween the long fingers of one hand as she lifts them. There's a critical eye aimed to the items, her sharpness cast there for a moment. ]

The purpose of what humans choose to craft often eludes me.

[ ...An unnecessarily complicated way to say she doesn't know why such things exist and why anyone should choose to wear them. ]

She had you carry them? [ There's a soft cluck of amusement from her tongue, almost a little mean-spirited, as though she's aiming it at him. With a nasty little smile, Maleficent suddenly drops the heels right to the floor. Surely it's rude to leave one's shoes in the middle of a party, but she's done worse things. ]

What a gentleman you are. Fortunately, I shall not condemn you to the same fate tonight.

[medeiun]

[ That's the bit she dislikes the most about this — the forced part of it. It goes against something that runs very deeply within her, what makes up her spirit: she is not meant to be controlled. No fae is. The bracelet itself feels like a cage by default, as does the clothing, the mask, for she chose none of it herself.

He certainly is knowledgeable in ways she may not be, having come from a world with such technology. She'll remember that, for she has the feeling that their experience with strange things in this place has only just begun. ]

Where I am from, colours have association with different magics. One knows by the colour of a thing what to stay clear of. [ She looks again to the orange of her own wrist, the yellow of his. ]

You are right. Their meaning could be completely different here, or even mean nothing at all. Perhaps in our search for someone to.... question [ interrogate ], we may keep an eye out for the colours that others have been assigned.

[ The pair of them trying to inconspicuously make note of everyone else's colours as they sneak around? Foolproof. ]

[medeiun]

Perhaps, though they may have simply told us one truth as to our purpose here, and meant another entirely. [ The Ferryman could have been lying about everything he'd said — this "journey of redemption" could very well be a trek into certain doom.

Forced vulnerability. That is very much what Maleficent dreads, here. She can withstand pain, and she does not feel embarrassment (...or if she does, she won't react to it). But vulnerability? Weakness?

She fears that. And her eyes watch the other woman's hand, fixed intently on it, as it reaches. Quickly, her own snaps out, long fingers enclosing around the other's wrist, grabbing ahold. Her eyes flash — an acerbic green colour, like venom. ]

Do you not fear pain?

[ Out of all the options the other woman had given: humiliation, vulnerability, pain, Maleficent chooses the last to question her about. For she has learned that for humans, pain is often the worst thing they can deal with. ]

[medeiun]

"......What." His body parts. In all of her years, she has never heard of such. If what he says is true, his power is truly incredible, and theoretically she should most certainly not be handling him this way, but he deserves this. And Maleficent has a beast of a temper.

"You are capable of regeneration?" Ironically enough, Maleficent has very recently learned that she, too, can return from death. She can be reborn into the Phoenix, whose rare ancestry she claims. But that knowledge had been obtained before she could make much sense of it, adjust to it; she'd soon enough been brought to this miserable place.

Of course, what he's talking about is quite different than rebirth; he could manifest a double. .....And she certainly doesn't want more than one of him in her vicinity. Maleficent scowls again, giving his throat another sudden squeeze for good measure before she lets it go. She keeps her other hand curled into his clothing, however.

"Know this, mutant. I shall spare your life so as to spare my sanity. But you have made an enemy and you shall regret it."

[vladpire]

As much as either of them could fit in, but he had a feeling she'd stand out more. Even without the wings or horns, she was a magnificent being, and there was something about her that drew the eye. Confidence was like that; enticing and entrancing. Her looks only added to it. And she was smart not to imbue too freely of the spirits. He'd seen too many people use the numbing effect to bury themselves and their problems. It never ended well. She was too smart to fall for that.

The question deserved an answer, and he sorted through the best way to reply. "I have a need, yes, but so far, the temple has seen fit to provide me with... supplements. Much like I'd gather back home. Sachets, of a sort. I'm not certain how long that generosity will last, but I've had centuries to learn to make do with the cravings. I promise you, Lady, you're in no danger in my company, if that thought happened to cross your mind. I can eat and drink minimally, but no. It does not sustain. I suppose it wouldn't be much of a curse if I could find ways around it." The smile he gave her was sad, but he'd known what he was shouldering when he'd agreed to his wife's sacrifice.

But that brought a question to his mind. "What of you, Maleficent? Do you have, ah, requirements for your health? Certain foods? Weather? Needing to be close to nature?" A creature so tied to the ground she walked on certainly had ties to more than just magic.

[medeiun]

[ She is a messy thing in this form, isn't she. Maleficent watches the other woman warily: torn between the lingering, softly awed surprise as to her identity, and...... being increasingly unimpressed by this display.

Though she does recall that slight bit of playfulness the wolf had displayed: how she'd delighted in startling the barn animals, how she'd stretched so carefree under the moonlight. At the time, Maleficent had accepted it as an impish, wild delight, one she can relate to when she is at her most uninhibited. Or... when she was. For she had that tendency, as a young girl: the faefolk's natural love of tricks, of teasing.

...The woman now, however, is just outright clumsy and hazardous and Maleficent narrows her brows again at the way she just dumps everything in. Very loudly. Being so very skilled in conversation, she ignores everything the woman says (though she doesn't forget it; she holds onto the pieces of information regarding ability malfunction and weakness) and even ignores the question. Instead, she asks one of her own— ]

You would so blindly consume the substances offered by humans?

[ There's a judgmental sharpness to her tone. This being, shapeshifter, may be fumbling and irritating, but she's still something more similar to Maleficent than many others here. She should know better than to trust what's here without even so much as examining it first. ]

[unkindled_madness]

[He hadn't thought to associate the colors with types of magic... In his world, orange is meaningless, but clearly there are other systems of magic.]

If we are being catalogued, it can't hurt to make note of them, in order to determine the criteria.

[They don't need to sneak so much as make direct eye contact with anyone who looks their way and intimidate them into pretending they saw nothing. Right?

Sephiroth tilts his head, an invitation for her to join him as he begins a circuit around the outside of the ballroom. He would prefer not to have to venture back onto the crowded dance floor.]

...out of curiosity, would I be something to avoid?

[He has definitely never considered yellow his color, but it might be slightly less distasteful if it communicated some sort of danger.]

apologies for the slow!! If you prefer to let this go, no worries at all!

[medeiun]

[ There's a thought in her that she should use him instead — direct him to approach the stage first, see if any immediate consequences smite him. But there's a greater part of her that wants to grasp some level of control in this situation, even if it's so very slight. And if he has magic of his own, he may not take kindly to being directed in such a way; she doesn't know what he might be capable of and is in no mood for an altercation. ....Though of course, if one happens, she assuredly wouldn't try to stop it, either. Someone really must work on their temper.

Maleficent purses her lips again before she moves forwards with her slow, sweeping gait. Despite her nerves, she keeps her head held slightly back, eyes sharp and cut to the stage as she approaches. Very slowly, she'll make her way to it, to allow any possible oddities to make themselves known to her senses. When she detects nothing, she chances moving even closer, stepping up alongside the stage side and onto it. It's cool beneath her bare feet, and empty-feeling, and she stands there for a long moment, waiting for him to join her. ]

A mask. [ She can see it up close now, and though she still can sense nothing offensive about it, the implication chills her slightly. ]

I.... do not feel that it is cursed, though it still may be. Surely, it is not simply a mask.

[mewnifestos]

That is how it tends to work, yes.

[ Obviously there's a catch here he's missing, though. Bizarre to think there could be places so different from what he's always known. ]

Magic but not a mage. It's hard to imagine.

[dothelokimotion]

[ loki weighs his response before he speaks up. ]

We're Gods. That's why. We don't need the structures mortals need.

[pilferings]

Yeah? Guess I'm remembering it a little differently.

[ Rafe may be testing Nate to get a sense of what he remembers last, but honestly it works both ways. At least he knows that the man standing in front of him now has seen that part of his life through. Not that they'd interacted at all, but Sully's warning had been clear enough that they weren't the only ones vying for the second Dismas cross, the one with an actual lead stashed inside it.

Even if, okay, the party didn't exactly end ... quietly. He still got his ass handed to him rather ungracefully when he'd sailed out of the window in an explosion of glass and metal (not subtle at all), barely hanging on by a literal thread. Christ. But they got what they came for, and now Sam ... Sam was gonna be okay. As long as they got through this place and headed home, things were going to be okay.

He gestures to the mask still firmly placed over Rafe's features, realizes they might've been at the party at the same time tonight, another echo of that evening at the Rossi estate. ​]

What, didn't feel like talking tonight?

[nightschool]

No, I imagine not. Were you, I'd question what other arcane knowledge of the universe you were privy to.

[For who would expect so tangible a touch from some mysterious, unfathomably powerful deity? If that is what it is.

Talking to the sand, he doesn't see the attempt at levity but hears it for what it is, and hopes the other's fight to reclaim distance from the skull's truth-telling suffices to cover the ever so slight quaver to his own voice. The skull's compulsion hasn't faded for him. Words tremble behind his lips, the scent of spices strong in his nose. A desire to spill in a torrent how he has longed for what is arcane and new and different for so much of his life, and now only wishes he could go back to a time before his world expanded with these things.

But he shouldn't say it, should he? And for much the same reason: it seems an act of cruelty to follow up such a personal confession with sorrows the man would not understand, or perhaps even be ready to believe, if he has yet to comprehend that human faces can hide what is just as uncanny as the boatman's inhuman one.

Still, given the choice, Kit would rather say nothing than strain at the pretense of niceties. It's a noble attempt, laughing in the face of the skull, but shedding melancholy strikes him as a losing battle and one he can't muster the energy to wage himself. However, he tries, if nothing else than for the coincidence of meeting another Englishman. He turns his head and broaches the beginnings of a smile--the end result resembling more of a grimace on his haggard features.

You must try.]

You can call me Kit. A strange way to meet, to be sure, but not the worst.

[sketchbookings]

Kit. [ Benedict repeats the name, letting it settle into his memory. ] A pleasure.

[ He recognizes the melancholy, to a degree. He’s seen Anthony brood and mope plenty of times. Of course, he’s never been much help - Anthony likes to be surly in private. But something tells him that perhaps it’s best not to leave Kit alone. At least not until Kit tells him to get lost.

So Benedict just smiles in response to the grimace. ]

I can’t really say I know anything of the arcane, but every so often i get this strange feeling when something is about to happen. I was out riding when my father died, and when it happened, my whole body went oddly numb. I wish I’d gotten one of those feelings before I arrived here, it might have given me a chance to brace myself.

[ It’s not something he tends to share with people, but sitting here on the beach seems to bring it out in him. ]

If I keep this up, you’ll know my entire life before the night is through.

[extrasensory_problems]

Exactly! Might as well feed our bodies as well as our curiosity.

[As they exit the temple Carter gives Benedict a small smile.]

So eight siblings, are you the oldest?

[kyley_b]

"That's cool, I can't have a lot of sugar so we can not eat chocolate together. I think yellow is like... middle of the road? It seems REALLY common, almost everyone I've met so far has yellow."

To be fair, he looks really, really stupid. "Yeah, I'm cool," he says as he manages to regain his footing. "I, uh. Kind of assumed it was gonna be stuck. I guess whatever we were meant to do, we did."

[aviate]

[Just his luck that he's met one of the few people that scenario applies to...]

Sorry, I didn't know.