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

spoilers: (smile:  knowing)

[personal profile] spoilers 2021-06-14 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
She chuckles, but not at Chloe's expense. "Love is, isn't it? As unique as the individuals experiencing it." And her love story with the Doctor has been...quite the tale, full of adventure and heartbreak and a great deal of running, possibly an explosion or two.

The offer causes her to laugh again, loudly, but it's full of mirth. "Oh, sweetie, I'm excellent at, well, most things, but she'll need all the help she can get. The Doctor is wonderful at so many things, but romance is definitely not one of them."

River doesn't add how much she'd love to be witness when Chloe makes the same offer to her wife.

"What about your great love, then?" she finally asks, once she's gathered herself, her voice gentle, "You don't have to tell me if you'd rather not."
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-06-14 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ As far as Benedict's concerned, her lesson is as correct as anything, and he has no idea how large America actually is, so the idea that it's all corn in the middle makes as much sense as anything. ]

Is America known for its corn?
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-06-14 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
No. Close, I suppose. I'm the second born, my brother Anthony is two years my elder. My youngest sibling, Hyacinth, is ten years of age, so you can imagine the range between all of us.

[ He sounds quite fond when he speaks of his family, and there's a smile evident on the corners of his mouth. ]

I don't envy Anthony being the eldest. We all play our parts when it comes to our siblings, but he's the real father figure among us.
queenking: (Default)

[personal profile] queenking 2021-06-14 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
Sure, yeah. [Saxsice shifts so she's lounging back in the sand, feet stuck out in front of her, propped up on her elbows.] Corn, potatoes, income inequality. Uhhhh, what else...cows, I guess?
spoilers: (face:  concern)

[personal profile] spoilers 2021-06-14 04:50 am (UTC)(link)
"Aren't those the same thing?" It comes out a bit flippant.

"The temples seem to have their own methods of defense, if that's what you'd like to call our strange friends. I doubt anyone sane would care to interfere."
aviate: (( hj ) windswept hair)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-14 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
You're a god.

[Hal sounds rather disappointed by that.]
dothelokimotion: (Time itself doesn’t work)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-14 10:40 am (UTC)(link)
[ he hums. ]

God of Mischief.
aviate: (( gl ) get in line)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-14 11:04 am (UTC)(link)
And I was the God of Light for 5 minutes. Being a god isn't all it's cracked up to be.

[The role sucks, Hal vastly prefers being human.]
dothelokimotion: (All hail the mighty glow cloud)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-14 11:05 am (UTC)(link)
I don't recall saying otherwise. But it is still who I am.

[ he can't take it back. it's all he has left. ]
aviate: (( hj ) awkward)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-14 11:12 am (UTC)(link)
You've never thought about trying to be anything else? Why let your title dictate who you are?
dothelokimotion: (Settles in as the gentle present)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-14 11:16 am (UTC)(link)
It's not just a title. And it is one of the few things I have left.

I will not give it up.
directrix: (neutral:  explaining)

[personal profile] directrix 2021-06-14 11:17 am (UTC)(link)
She releases a faint, almost amused breath. Everything wouldn't be much of an answer, and yet.

"Every town has its problems," she says instead, then quite suddenly adds, "It's where Lucifer Fell."
neverwither: (When you stare into the abyss)

[personal profile] neverwither 2021-06-14 03:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Where River chuckles, Chloe looks quite serious indeed. "Yes. It is unique. I doubt two loves are ever truly the same." And if that's the case, who is to say what she's experienced isn't love? Plenty might claim so for a whole host of reasons but really, what does anyone know of a very private man and the private life she shares with him?

The seriousness remains, though tempered with some good cheer and keenness. "I think it would be just lovely to offer that help. Assuming such help would be wanted, of course." Chloe certainly wouldn't force said help upon anyone. Just some gentle nudging and quiet encouragement, perhaps.

Ah. Now that's a question. The first thing that comes to mind is how that great love wouldn't much appreciate her saying much at all. Only he isn't here. And there's every possibly that the name Elijah Kamski doesn't mean anything to anyone she meets here.

"He's... Well... He's a genius. Which I mean very literally. The Man of the Century, they call him." A little smile crosses her lips, one of a fondness and a pride that alway remain. "One of the greatest scientific minds there has ever been and ever will be." All objective facts that it doesn't hurt to share.
extrasensory_problems: (cute curious)

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-06-14 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Huh I take it then if your oldest brother is the father figure that means your father passed away? I'm sorry to hear that.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟎𝟔)

swoops in with outrageously late backtag 😎

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-14 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)
[ All of it presses against some strange sore spot within her: though it's necessary to use caution here, and she knows well when such things have their place, Maleficent purely dislikes feeling tempered down. It goes against her very nature; there's a wildness within her, something that explodes when it needs to. Every piece of her being longs to unleash her true spirit upon the enemies, tear them to shreds with an unchecked, unfiltered burst of magic.

But she cannot. The risk is... too great. If she overextends her magic here... if she should somehow become injured or even perish in this place... she will be unable to return to Aurora. And that thought, that single thought, is what drives her to use more caution. She must survive this. She must keep her voice down, and sneak. Find other ways to overcome the predicament.

She must rely on others.

There's a short nod at the suggestion — it is such an obvious thought, and it's almost comical that she finds herself surprised by it for a moment. Maleficent is well used to usilising her wings however they may be needed, and often as a weapon. But she isn't used to staying on the ground through that. She recovers quickly enough, however, her wings lifting, one curving slightly in front of her and brushing the fog backwards, clearing the air slightly in front of them. The other keeps closer to her companion, almost as though to guard him from behind if needed. ]


That way— [ Her eyes flash to the direction she's very sure she came from, back towards the stretch of beach beyond the fog. She'll start moving that way with him, and there's a reactive snarl from somewhere behind them; it seems the undead things can see them, after all. Maleficent already knows he can move fast, and so she quickens her own pace, fanged mouth held in a tight grimace. ]
medeiun: ғʟɪᴇɴ (pic#14830183)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-14 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Maleficent is still unsure of the degree to which her magic may have been altered here; she will need to experiment more with it. Her magic is.... somewhat unstable as it is, back in her own home world. It's the most powerful and reliable piece of herself, but it can be.... a beast of its own. It has, more than once, taken hold of her in ways no fae should ever be taken hold of. She can't help wondering how the ancient powers at work in this place might affect it. She can feel it there in her, a simmering thing.

Her eyes — presently as golden as the magic she'd displayed (not green just yet; her magic is only green when used.... aggressively) — follow the other woman's movements, witnessing her own display. She conjures flame to light the item without batting an eye; she, too, is a powerful thing. Yet like Maleficent, her magic cannot be utilised to escape this particular situation. It's.. a highly unsettling thought, and she scowls quietly, revealing the tip of a pointed fang. ]


The bands.... [ The fae slowly lifts her arm, peeling back her sleeve with one hand to reveal the odd metal against the wrist of her other. The glow that emanates from it is Orange. Maleficent regards it warily; she is also uncertain of how the thing functions. It makes her incredibly uneasy. Though it does not rest against her throat, she can't help feeling collared. ]

Are you familiar with technology such as this, from your own time? I have never seen metal such as this. [ If it is, in fact, a type of metal. It's far too modern for what she's accustomed to, and seems so alien in its sleekness. ]
medeiun: ᴍᴀʟᴀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ (pic#14830124)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-14 10:02 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There's a soft curve of her mouth at that, a little smile that isn't at all friendly. ]

A snake can conceal itself easily, but fatally strike within seconds.

[ ....Maleficent does not know how to carry a normal conversation. ]

Perhaps you should be a harsher judge of character, in this place. For your own safety.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟒𝟒)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-14 10:22 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Why did she grab the woman's wrist without even thinking about it? It was almost like instinct, and Maleficent finds herself slightly surprised by her own gesture, though her features remain harsh, brows knit, mouth tight. She is not responsible for this woman's safety. Not responsible for the safety of any of these humans. There is only one human she cares for, has responsibility for.

...And yet. She has protected a few of them here. They don't know any better; they are so easily led astray. Part of it is a desire to keep them from further complicating things, from messing with magics they have no understanding of.

Part of it may be something else, some softer part of her that embraces the word Protector, the role she has become accustomed to.

Part of it may be that she has known another girl, with locks of blonde, to reach her hand out to touch something dangerous, and Maleficent's guilt can never be appeased, even after all of this time.

The fae stares hard at the other woman, the question causing her to tense; Elenore may feel how that cold hand tightens harder around her wrist. And then at once, Maleficent lets it go, and does not answer the questions. ]


Do what you will, then. I am not your guardian. [ She seems.... slightly rattled, her cool demeanour shaken. ]
medeiun: ᴍᴀʟᴀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ (pic#14830054)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-14 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"It may be dangerous to divulge those thoughts to the wrong person," Maleficent admits (of course, her opinions are coated in Distrust and Cynicism...) but after a breath, she adds — "However, there is something to be said for those capable of being so... true to themselves."

Once again, she has to draw comparison to Aurora, the only one she knows to draw comparison to. As frightful as the girl's openness could be, it was something Maleficent simultaneously found precious.

'It's lovely to meet you, Maleficent.' This, too, is a novelty for her, to be greeted so kindly by a stranger, and ordinarily she might laugh — perhaps with a mean-spirited edge, something just sharp there beneath the surface. A warning, as though to say there is nothing lovely about meeting me. But she does not, here, now. She is not known here; whether hidden behind a mask or not. The girl does not fear her, and Maleficent finds that she'd perhaps like to keep it that way.

An intentional name, one meant specifically for her. Maleficent is very used to such things, from all manner of creatures. For her own kind, surely, but also for humans. Human names are... important. Often associated with the greatness they wish for their children to achieve, like power inherited. She finds a name like "Chloe" much more charming — a name associated with growth and spring, not power and greatness. But she says no more on it, not now, instead listening to her companion list some of the options for human events.

"Considering I am not one for dancing... keeping out of the main fray is the most appealing option," she says with something that could almost be seen as humour, the edges of her mouth shifting back a bit, exposing the tip of fangs. It might be wise to learn more of her fellow Travelers, after all, and Maleficent looks to her gaze, no matter how unsettling the girl's visage currently may be.

"Is your world very like this one? This... era? Someone here referred to it as the Jazz Age." A strange title, but much about this place is strange for her. "It is entirely unfamiliar for me. My home is.... I supposed it would be considered quite olden in comparison to this."
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-15 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
Cravings? How interesting. So not only is he condemned to feast on blood, but he does actively crave it... most likely enjoys it, even. Maleficent's eyes seem to flash with curiosity, the inhuman glow of them brightening; she is in no way frightened of him, simply intrigued further. What she'd witnessed of his abilities — how his form itself could shatter into countless living beings all working as one — had enthralled her. Humans might see him more as beast than man. And she has always enjoyed the company of beasts more than mankind.

"If blood is what your tongue desires, feel free to indulge in it tonight, rather than these human drinks." Her eyes glitter further, almost sparkling. Perhaps he doesn't have any of those sachets with him tonight, but if he does...? "I am not afraid of your curse."

"Truthfully, I am not altogether certain," she admits then, tapping a long nail against her glass thoughtfully. "I was orphaned as a girl, and lived away from my kind. I have only recently learned what I am." Mere weeks ago, really. She learned of the Dark Fey's existence, and her own role within them. Yet she still feels like an outsider amongst them.

"I have lived my whole life in nature's embrace, however. My magic stems from my connection with it. If I were to be separated from the earth for long... perhaps I would indeed be weakened." She doesn't know for sure. Even here in this gilded city, she finds ways to remain connected to the earth.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (pic#14784887)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-15 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
How dreadfully inconvenient. It's most definitely something she'll have to keep a close eye on, this strange creature before her. This place boasts a variety of types, Travelers, and she isn't certain which may be potential allies or enemies for her, but he is very certainly in the latter category.

Why? For a very simple reason.

"You touched my horn."

She's just going to ignore everything before that, all of his drivel about what he is, these... people he keeps referring to. He's someone she'll keep an eye on and she'll quietly try to learn more about "mutants" or mutant adjacents, but right now, she only focuses on her grudge-holding abilities. And Maleficent can absolutely hold a grudge.

"You shall never make that mistake again," she informs him coldly, finally fully letting go of the man. That green hue to her eyes slowly fades back into the usual golden irises, and the surge of magic around her settles. Her wings flutter, sorting themselves back out as much as possible, though there are certainly a few feathers sticking out in odd directions, from the scuffle.
lickstheevidence: (Default)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-06-15 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
I would hardly consider myself an optimist.

[Connor's LED flashes yellow. His own experience with those in power is much the same as far as the abuse and taking advantage of those without, but he is also distressingly aware that as humans came to rely on androids, the need for them was created. And even such a powerful entity as Cyberlife itself needed him to do its dirty work. Those in power here needing the help of lesser beings to do things that maybe they no longer could or would for themselves wouldn't surprise Connor in the slightest. He doesn't understand why that makes him an optimist.

He purses his lips against the small grin that wants desperately to escape.]


I'll give you that one. [His own lips twist into a smirk.] Do you think they have poetry here?
lickstheevidence: (Default)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-06-15 12:50 am (UTC)(link)
[He stares at her hand on his arm, and for a long moment he doesn't say anything, his LED spinning a frantic yellow under the ridiculous mask. What in the world was it supposed to symbolize, anyway? It's loosened enough that he could take it off now, but leaving it on seems like the better choice until he can get his LED under control.

If only he was still a machine. He's lost here, out of his element, unsure of himself and everything about this place. Worse than being lost, he's afraid. Fear clings to him like cobwebs, flimsy yet cloying, permeating everything he thinks and does. If only Hank was here, maybe he wouldn't feel so alone and frightened. Plenty of new deviants had had to figure themselves out by themselves with little to no help, but how many had to when they were also in a completely different universe besides?

He lifts his eyes back to Chloe's face, very suddenly pulling his arm away from her and stepping back, raising his hands like a shield between them.]


I don't know. I don't know. I need- I have to get out of here.

[Turning, he speed-walks away from her until he's far enough that he can break into a jog, tugging angrily at the mask and tossing it to the side as he makes his hasty exit.]
bookerlesigh: (face)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-06-15 01:11 am (UTC)(link)

Booker regards her for a moment, wondering if that's just a figure of speech. Where Lucifer Fell - either way, he gets the same sentiment. "Ah," he nods, and he takes another sip.

"You didn't leave?" It's a product of his own mostly nomadic lifestyle. When the heat got to high in one place, you just moved on until they forgot you.

medeiun: ᴍᴀʟᴀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ (pic#14830101)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-15 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Maleficent starts to move with him, quiet and fluid even if being on her feet is not her ideal, and in the air she is much more at ease, much more at grace. Her wings aren't meant to be tucked inwards like this, though at least staying to the outer rim of the space keeps any wayward dancers from stumbling into them.

As she moves, her eyes flit about, searching for anything worth seeing — glimpses of colours or of anything else that seems strange. Perhaps anyone that might be standing alone, watching the crowds; such a person could possibly be one of those responsible for all of this. It's hard to tell, though. The masks make it even harder to truly grasp people; her own bothers her, feathers at the edges of her vision. But she glances back to him at the question, considering it. ]


Where I am from, shades of yellow... gold... are associated with power. The power of the Earth. [ Not the gold of man, not a power related to commerce and wealth, but something much more ancient and sacred. ]

Fae magic is... mostly of such a hue. [ Her particular magic has another side to it, another colour, but gold is what is natural for the Dark Fey. ]

Mankind would certainly avoid you, for yellow. Fear you. [ Is there a little glimmer of mirth as she says that? Being feared is a power in itself, one she can well appreciate. ]