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

queenking: ([woof] solemn and majestic)

[personal profile] queenking 2021-06-08 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
"And all hell breaks loose," Saxsice finishes cheerfully. Her idea of a good night.

The mention of group therapy has her mildly curious, but now that she's thinking about bunnies, that's where her attention is. So there's more of those alarming cracking/tearing noises, and then a cold wolfy nose is nudged into Kyle's hand, leaving it slobbery. Saying a polite goodbye.
dothelokimotion: (Thoughts are magic)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-08 04:41 am (UTC)(link)
Religion is for mortals.

[ the way of worship, the culture, that all belongs to them. ]

And what sets us apart is the fabric that makes us. Our actions, our desires, they shape worlds. Even devastate them. Our stories get told over and over, across universes.

You may not know my name. But you would know variations of my name. My character. It is a consistent mythos.
pilferings: (look it up)

[personal profile] pilferings 2021-06-08 04:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ As Nate so rarely leaves his sleeves at anywhere but gathered at his elbows — even in the 1920s get-up — it won't be hard to notice the greenish glow at his wrist with just a tint more yellow than your average, well-adjusted Traveler. He's got more than a few mistakes to rectify, and then there's the whole saving his brother and saving his marriage thing. ]

Oh, right. Guess you could say that. [ Knowing what he knows of the English pirates during that golden age, he tries not to make his declaration a performative one, but. This is almost too good an opportunity to pass up. The possibility of maybe impressing a pirate? Totally going to knock this one off his bucket list ... n o t that he could have imagined this ever happening in the first place to even be on a bucket list, and — okay, no.

Again he's got to remind himself to be cool. He rubs his chin like it ain't no thang, just thoughtful. ]


Just ah, a little country across the pond, actually. America. You might've heard of it?
aviate: (( gl ) the thing is...)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-08 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
...Right.

[He's not touching that. He knows he's not qualified for that sort of thing.]

So we'll pretend I didn't stick my foot in my mouth?
aviate: (( hj ) ready to go)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-08 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
Hal Jordan. Formerly of the US Air Force, currently a space cop.

[Might as well introduce himself properly since the guy admitted he's army.]
nightschool: (🖋️ 17)

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-08 08:42 am (UTC)(link)
[Sympathy twinges in him. He's done a disservice unworthy of pleasure or being privy to these glimpses into a stranger's life; the other pays the price for his weary reticence by offering up slices of himself better shared with closer companions. But then, if he's separated from his family and his London, perhaps there is no one like that on these islands. How sad for the pair of them.

And the only death I'm mourning is one that hasn't happened yet.]


A--feeling, you say.

[Worse still, rather than determining if this newest admission is at behest of the man's will or the enchantment, Kit can't help but be interested, despite the grim context. The light of curiosity enters his eyes. He believes it implicitly; the description rings true of every sensitive human, witch, and daemon prone to strange feelings. Second sight of a kind?

On the second try, his smile curves with more honestly-felt sentiment. And at the same time tinged with apology for playing the part of audience.]


Tell me, if you like. I have nothing but time to listen.

[If his return truly hinges on absolution, he won't be going anywhere for a while.]
dothelokimotion: (Comfort was the answer to all)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-08 09:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ his lips twitch slightly in good humour. ]

What foot? I don't recall seeing anything.
ungodlily: (ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇs)

[personal profile] ungodlily 2021-06-08 11:48 am (UTC)(link)
Sharon had no reason not to believe Vlad, not when he's seemed so genuine. She knew how truly awful humanity could be and she knew it was even worse the further one went back in history, not that it ever got much better in her opinion. For whatever horrors they'd forced upon him, they deserved the pain they suffered in return. The painful truth of the matter was that regardless of the vengeance taken, it would never ever be enough.

"It's hard for them not to be surprised when they believe they're doing the right thing. I mean, you can do anything if you do it in the name of God." The words came out sharp and bitter. God is such a convenient excuse. She scowled, though not at him, "Hell, one part of the Order thought what I did was a sign they were right. The other saw it as a sign that I was to give birth to their god."

It tainted her vengeance, though it hardly stopped her from letting it continue.

"Did the Turks know why they were suffering? Or did they close their eyes to their own sins, too?" It wouldn't surprise her. For some reason, awful people can always find justification for their actions.
kneecaptain: (154)

[personal profile] kneecaptain 2021-06-08 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Bucky Barnes.

[ The Air Force as a separate branch of service is after his own time, but not by much. He thinks about adding that he's also Captain America, but that still feels strange to say, so he doesn't. ]

Does that come with a pay bump?
outofdenile: (Default)

[personal profile] outofdenile 2021-06-08 08:40 pm (UTC)(link)
...no, she doesn't like this at all. It's not right that he should have to go through whatever this is on his own. Nicky can do what he wants, and she's not going to make the call that Booker should come with her until she talks to Nicky, but Booker should come with her.

And at least know where their camp is.

"You know the jetty on the west side of the island? Our camp's there."
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-09 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ It sounds like the same kind of drivel overly self-important nobles like to spout - maybe a touch more grandiose, of course. But not far off enough for Anders to find himself any more swayed.

Curious, though, yes. ]


Are you going to tell me what your name is, then, or must I live in mystery?
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-09 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh, would you? My fragile ego has gone so unflattered, lately." Anders bats his own eyes a little, for effect, though it does nothing to cut through the cheerfully thick sarcasm in his reply. She may not find it easy to eschew more serious things, but he certainly isn't going to critique the effort. It works in his favor, after all, and he'll gladly take that - she's not half bad, anyway.

"Really," he repeats, a touch disbelieving, but doesn't push it any further. There's no need to, regardless, as they're already on the verge of entering the temple proper, and she's clearly in no danger of immediately keeling over.

Her behavior once they actually get inside is... a little more concerning. But he doesn't insist on following, when she ducks away with her hastily grabbed bottle - even if he does peer after her curiously, still. Why she'd feel the need to run off just to drink a potion, he can't possibly imagine, but perhaps it's impolite not to, wherever she's from. Either way, she looks well enough when she returns, as he pretends to have been entirely minding his own business, during her brief sojourn to the other end of the hall.

"Maybe another time. Strangely, I don't have much of an appetite, at the moment." The brackish, sea salt smell of the fog and the images of walking corpses it conjures is going to linger on him a while, he suspects. "I wouldn't mind a quick breather, though."

Although this place seems to be all high ceilings and dubious comfort, at the moment.
dothelokimotion: (Comfort was the answer to all)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-09 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ he inclines his head politely. ]

It's Loki.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-09 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
Perhaps you do have some godly powers of foresight! It doesn't ring any bells, after all.

[ Not that it would have, either way. Anders is not a scholar of Thedosian religions, and the one he does know is not the sort to host multiple gods. Or to really promote any sort of fun at all, that kind. ]

Though you did say it was more your reputation that precedes you..?
bookerlesigh: (hmm)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-06-09 01:21 am (UTC)(link)

Booker nods, once - he knows where the jetty is, and he appreciates having a place to look for them. Doesn't imagine he'll be using it, but the knowledge is reassuring.

He'd even reciprocate, if there was a place he could list.

"You guys need anything?"

dothelokimotion: (You will never go)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-09 01:46 am (UTC)(link)
[ he shrugs. ]

The trickster. Chaos. Mischief.
outofdenile: (Default)

[personal profile] outofdenile 2021-06-09 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
This is awkward and weird and she doesn't know exactly how to deal with it.

"Nah, we're good."

...lame. Zero forward motion. Ugh. Nile regards him a little cautiously before lifting up her hand with the Scrywatch on it.

"Did you get one of these?"
bookerlesigh: (considering)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-06-09 03:02 am (UTC)(link)

Weird as it is, it does feel reassuring that they're doing okay. Thankfully, this little island seems to provide most of everything they need.

Booker's fine with the conversation though. He has no desire for forward motion at the expense of effort.

"Yeah," he says, and he pulls up his sleeve - orange, though he doesn't pay the hue of it much heed. "Looks better on you."

aviate: (( hj ) don't tell me)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-09 10:51 am (UTC)(link)
[Beaming:] I knew there was a reason I liked you.

I'm Hal, by the way.
dothelokimotion: (We can only prefer it to ignorance)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-09 11:07 am (UTC)(link)
[ liked him. loki swallows it down quickly. ]

Loki . . . Odinson.
neverwither: (Smile for the cameras)

[personal profile] neverwither 2021-06-09 01:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Anders' tolerance and patience is very much appreciated. As is his distinct lack of questions. There's the compulsion to apologise for her strange - and quite rude - behaviour but doing so would only draw more attention to it. If he's as content to brush her oddities aside as she is, best to just move on from it all completely.

"Yes, of course." There is, however, an apology in her smile at that point. One's stomach probably doesn't feel much like being filled after what they've witnessed. Foolish to ask, really. She recovers with a lighter, "Though you will have to let me make something for you sometime." Assuming that she would be able to throw something at least semi-decent together with what they have access to. And if he would even want her to.

Far from homely, the temple doesn't seem to offer too many comforts. Not to worry. There are a few blankets that haven't been claimed by other Travelers and so Chloe grabs a couple. One is folded into a square and the other wrapped around it to create a makeshift cushion.

"Here," she says, offering the crafted cushion to him. "I know it's not the height of luxury but it may make taking a breather a little more cosy."
lickstheevidence: (Default)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-06-09 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[Connor watches the wooden statue like it holds the secrets of the universe, and in this place maybe it does? He frowns, his LED spinning yellow as he processes.]

I...don't think that's it? Boredom could certainly factor into it, but I think there's more to everything going on around us than we realize- than we're allowed to realize. I think the Ancient needs us. I think they might be scared of something.

[Connor snorts, his head swinging in amusement. He turns to look over his shoulder at Anders again.]

I don't agree. Art this bad should come with a justification for its existence. Even a small plaque would do.
lickstheevidence: (pic#13254136)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-06-09 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's a thing, that's all. Neither good nor bad, so. Neutral. Behind his back, his hands are nervous, fingers twitching as he clasps and unclasps them. He rocks on the balls of his heels once, notices, stops. All the little tells that add up to one big revelation. Deviancy- is this what androids really want? Being a machine is so much easier, no thinking, no questioning. No emotions, no guilt or remorse.

If anyone poses a danger here, it's him, but not for any deliberate actions. People may end up as collateral damage, maybe not physically, but it's still not what he wants. What he wants- what he wants is to feel safe. He doesn't know what that's like, but he knows it's a good thing, it's important for a person's well-being. Except that he's not a person, he's a machine, and machines don't want anything.

His gaze slides away from her face to the hand she's touched to his arm, freezing him in place. His mask feels heavy and oppressive, hot and stifling and like he can't breathe, even if he doesn't need to. Thirium runs hot in his artificial veins, flushing his skin a pale blue as his pump struggles to keep up with his processor and his scarlet LED. His words are whisper-soft now, but there is purpose behind them.]


I am afraid of myself.
omertae: (• perfect my cold stare)

[personal profile] omertae 2021-06-10 12:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh really," Angelo says dryly, though there's an edge of amusement to his voice as his eyebrow quirks. "Bathtub gin?"
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-10 12:29 am (UTC)(link)
Well, who doesn't enjoy a spot of mischief?

[ Anders grins, amused genuinely despite himself. Somehow, he was expecting something a little more - imposing. Grave, perhaps. Mischief and trickery sound quite pleasant by comparison. ]

I like the sound of that far better than some all-knowing, all-seeing judgemental prig who insists none of us are ever allowed to have any fun.