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!


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medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-11 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)
Indeed. Such compulsion to bear one's secrets is a frightful thought. [ And Maleficent well knows the importance of keeping secrets. She's relieved when the young woman stands up, willing to come along with her.

Though.... now she is uncertain what to do. She's successfully helped her away from the skull's trance (for what reason, Maleficent is still unsure. It isn't her responsibility to go around rescuing humans, and yet she seems to be doing a lot of that here, anyway). But now she stands for a moment, lingering there. Here is where she should make her exit, carry on her own way, yet she can't help wondering if the woman might simply be drawn back to the skull if left on her own.

So after a lengthy pause, the fae starts walking, slowly, so that the girl can stay at her pace. Away from the skull, towards the long stretch of beach. And she asks a question she hopes will keep the young woman's focus on her instead of what they are leaving behind. ]


....Who is Madi?
extrasensory_problems: (not sure)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-06-11 04:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"I'm sorry." He says softly, his brows knitting together in concern. He knows that it's true, pain is relative, but he also knows that sometimes when people say that they are masking exactly how much it really hurts.

"I was studying to be a nurse before I came here." He explains, taking a sip of his drink. "Which is why I was curious if it hurt, I'm always...I dunno, trying to help people deal with pain."

He glances over at her, his eyes flickering to hers. "And this might sound even dumber but urm...if there's like...one form that is more comfortable than the other for you, you can use it around me." He gives her a small smile. "I think you're cool either way."
vladpire: (Talking - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-06-11 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
She spoke of something he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with, though he wouldn't say his soul had been splintered. More like stained. But he'd heard of similar things happening to others; traumatic events making their minds do things unheard of to protect themselves. He may have been burned to 'death' by the sun himself, but that wasn't nearly the same as suffering at the hands of others as a child. Not to that degree. "Then they were taken by the thing they created. If they'd left you be, this... other self wouldn't exist. That rage wouldn't have been kindled. They were the architects of their own destruction." And he had no sympathy for those that preyed on children, no matter the reason. Too many claimed the necessity of innocent blood for a just cause.

When all the innocents were used as sacrifice, what else was left but the monsters?
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-11 11:11 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Contrition is not something he expects. Ordinarily, this conversation ends with him being written off - along with all the atrocities the Circle stands for. He's always making a big deal out of nothing, surely just exaggerating; so some mild acquiescence from a stranger from another world is the last thing that should come from this seemingly ill-fated meeting. (Or at least it seemed so, a moment ago.)

Anders doesn't really relax, but some of the edginess eases out of his demeanor. He doesn't understand - not anymore than he appears to be being understood. But the lack of an argument or even more derisive laughter assuages some of his offense. ]


Well you're right about that.

[ Though the same could just as easily be said of him. But Anders isn't feeling particularly self-reflective, at present. ]

Why call yourself a demon at all, then, if you bear no resemblance to one? It seems counterproductive, at the very least. Especially if you prefer not to be slain by an errant Templar. Or anyone else with a taste for self-preservation.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-12 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
I hate to call the man theorizing the all-powerful, unknowable being has a boogeyman in its closet an optimist, but...

[ Well. He will. In Anders' experience, though, the more power someone has, the more apt they are to abuse it - and often not for such clear cut reasons as needing help. That, he might've understood, at least.

He shrugs when Connor looks back at him, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. ]


Terrible idea. You've already seen what they can do with wood and some paint. Do you honestly want to give them a chance to assail you with their words, as well? I can only imagine the plodding, dismal essay it would take to justify this thing!
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-12 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
"You do a lot of cooking?" Well, she must, to insist. But there's more interest than curiosity in the question; it's not often he has a chance to eat a decent meal. Ever. Really. And that's not an offer he won't absolutely take her up on, if she's so willing.

The cushion he's a little more apprehensive about, though he accepts it if only to be polite.

"I'm sure it will. But what about you? It's not exactly big enough to share."
aviate: (( hj ) awkward)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-12 09:09 am (UTC)(link)
[He frowns.]

That sounds familiar. Are you famous?
aviate: (( gl ) you said what?)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-12 09:14 am (UTC)(link)
Not with anything accepted on Earth.

...people really call you Bucky?

[Says the guy named Harold.]
dothelokimotion: (Truth takes us to dangerous places)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-12 10:15 am (UTC)(link)
Yes. You could say that.
aviate: (( gl ) the thing is...)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-12 12:10 pm (UTC)(link)
[Mock whispering:] Psst, this is the part where you tell me where I'm supposed to know you from.
Edited 2021-06-12 12:10 (UTC)
dothelokimotion: (Fear is a reasonable response to life)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-12 12:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Why would I do that when it's more fun to leave you guessing?
kneecaptain: (pic#14867168)

[personal profile] kneecaptain 2021-06-12 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
They call me all kinds of things.

But Bucky's one of 'em.

[ Is it really a weird name? He doesn't think it's weird. ]
grayshulk: (pic#12896192)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-06-13 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
There is a faint prickle along her skin, the barest hint of physical pain that hints that she needs to slow and deepen her breath. No need to think about the change and why and the way her body no longer seems like it is entirely her own. This is still a party. She still has a drink in her hand.

"I understand wanting to fix things for other people." It's an easier thing to focus on than her body. In theory, she can even appreciate someone wanting to help her.

She does appreciate the offer. It seems truly sincere, and she knows how rare that is better than just about anyone. "Thanks. I'll remember that." She keeps her eyes averted, focused on a middle distance that doesn't require eye contact. "I'm currently trying not to change much. The impulse control is bad."
pilferings: (they closed disneyland)

[personal profile] pilferings 2021-06-13 05:13 am (UTC)(link)
[ There's a quiet scoff, disbelieving. ]

Really. I doubt you kept all your cards on the table.

[ No, Rafe might not be the kind of person who lied, but he sure didn't keep his entire agenda out and open for all to see. Never really had with him, and certainly Nate couldn't see him doing so with complete strangers from other worlds.

If he had, maybe that mask of his wouldn't still be attached rather permanently on his face. And speaking of which: ]


Yeah. [ Nate reaches up with a hand to touch his face without even realizing it, like it's instinct more than anything. And the events from only a few hours earlier gut-punch him all over again, so his continued response sounds just a little ... shakier. More uncertain. ] I — uh. Ran into my wife, Elena.
pilferings: (literally my life is)

[personal profile] pilferings 2021-06-13 05:50 am (UTC)(link)
I hope not.

[ Nate follows his gaze back to the beach where the haze of Loki's magic still seems to be in effect, the soggy skele-creatures slowly retreating back into the deep waters. So there's the confirmation he needed on whether they'd come up and wreak havoc in the city.

What a goddamned relief. ]


But — uh. Thanks. You know, for having my back out there. I can't imagine a worse way to end the evening than getting snacked on by sea-soaked zombie-pirates.
aviate: (( hj ) pouting)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-13 08:44 am (UTC)(link)
[He grumbles something about cryptic assholes who never say anything.]

Fine. Are you one of Constantine's friends?
dothelokimotion: (The curtain is raised a few inches)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-13 09:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ primly. ]

I don't know who that is.
dothelokimotion: (A thing which exists to be not known)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-13 09:26 am (UTC)(link)
[ he blinks, surprised by the compliment before ducking his head slightly. ]

Think nothing of it.
aviate: (( hj ) attempting to think)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-13 12:14 pm (UTC)(link)
[He opens his mouth to explain before deciding that it was better not to.]

You're better off not knowing.

[So probably not a known magic user. Hal doesn't think he knows anything about celebrities these days, but maybe he's picked up more than realises...]

So actor?
dothelokimotion: (Here's your cuttlefish card)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-13 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ loki shakes his head. ]

Think older. Like a myth or a story.
what_fourth_wall: (Did I say that out loud?)

[personal profile] what_fourth_wall 2021-06-13 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
"Ah, too bad." Even if her eyebrow says it isn't. It's a very expressive eyebrow. "Hey, every hulk needs a safe punching bag. Separated from your usual support networks, you might need one more than most. Just forget I said something as legit sounding as 'support networks' and everything'll be all right."

Man, this conversation really did have him feeling more lucid than usual. That should be a good thing, but here it scared him a little. Lucidity was not how you dealt with starting up yet another reality - this one a strange one far from anything you were familiar with.

"Oh, probably go down to the beach and get it on with my girl Death for starters. She usually gets a little zombie happy though so I'll probably have to deal with some of that. After that...I dunno. Wander around trying to convince people I'm Ryan Reynolds for real so I can get laid? Look, you'll probably judge me for that BUT. Nobody ever gets that regeneration like mine means being fully loaded all the time. Great for those weekend long benders with a fairy queen, but sometimes kinda uncomfortable. There's a reason Wolvie has like thirty kids that hate him."
extrasensory_problems: (hair in face)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-06-13 10:43 pm (UTC)(link)
He nods, grateful that she doesn't seem mad at him for asking such questions. He's just honestly happy to have found a friend and doesn't want to accidentally screw it up by not fully understanding her situation.

He tips his glass back and finishes off his drink, setting the glass on the bar and taking a deep breath before asking his next question.

"Does...urm touching other people effect it at all?" He asks, and then runs a hand through his hair nervously, his cheeks once again going red.

"Because I was going to ask you if you'd like to dance."
bookerlesigh: (booker happy)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-06-14 03:10 am (UTC)(link)

Booker shrugs, "That's up there. Had some pretty awful moonshine once that almost killed me." - actually, it had killed him. But that version of the story invites too many questions.

sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-06-14 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
That I caught my sister smoking in the yard and encouraged it.

[ It's a terribly horrible excuse for a secret, which Benedict has only just learned. If he were to tell anyone back in London of it, they'd be quite appalled at his behaviour. Here? No one seems to care. ]

You can understand why it didn't work in removing my mask.
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-06-14 04:05 am (UTC)(link)
[ Benedict shifts around, putting his hands behind him and leaning back, letting his legs stretch out across the sand. He watches the water lap at the beach, then spares another glance over at Kit.

He's not sure he's exactly helping the melancholy, but at least it's leading the conversation away from sadder things. Benedict shrugs one of his shoulders and he seems almost shy at the prospect of talking about it at all.
]

I don't really know what to say about it. I've not told anyone of it. I already feel rather on the outside of things, I hardly need to give myself any more reason to detach.