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

epitaphs: (tu)

[personal profile] epitaphs 2021-06-17 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
A warning sign.

[ Clarke gives him a flat look. ]

Really, the fact of it being a creepy old skull that kinda makes you want to tell your secrets to it isn't warning enough? What would you even write? 'Don't'?

[ She's awfully sassy for someone who was content to spill her entire life story to the thing a few minutes ago. Mostly she just feels kind of stupid for having been caught at it. And for believing that it could be dangerous, because for all that she's seen she still thinks most things run on science rather than magic, and this... this falls squarely into that other realm. ]
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-06-17 03:43 am (UTC)(link)
America sounds far less exciting than it's been made out to be.

[ Though of course they'd have crops and cows and all of that. How could they not? Surely they'd go hungry without agriculture and livestock. Which is all so out of Benedict's wheelhouse that he knows very little beyond that. ]
epitaphs: (fidi eit)

[personal profile] epitaphs 2021-06-17 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
They are literally the most painful things I've ever put on my feet.

[ Fashion is weird. She'd found it novel to the point of being charming at first, but an hour in these things and she's ready to stab someone with one of her heels. She's entirely too cognizant of the fact that, should she need to run or even walk a reasonable distance, she's screwed. ]

We didn't have many excuses for fancy parties where I came from. How about you?

[ It's not really trading secrets, but maybe they could work up to it casually. ]
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-17 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ He's already thinking in terms of being needed and useful, rather than assuming the worst and assuming this is all just a very un-fun game at their collective expense. That's enough to brand him an optimist, alone.

But Anders has a sense he'd be sending them in pedantic circles, if he argued with this one. (A certain corpse-y spirit comes to mind. Although Connor's already leagues ahead, there, considering he has some clear propensity for facial expressions other than dour disapproval.) ]


Do you really want to check? They might pen nothing but odes to this horrible thing.
epitaphs: (fodi fai)

[personal profile] epitaphs 2021-06-17 03:50 am (UTC)(link)
I'm... I was a medical student, once.

[ It's been six years, give or take a century in cryostasis. But it's an easier thing to voice aloud than last remnant of the human race or Commander of Death. ]
nightschool: (🖋️ 45)

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-17 06:31 am (UTC)(link)
[Not long ago, it'd have been more than he'd normally offer unprompted to a stranger, let alone another creature. But Matthew's farewell to him had left marks, though the physical wounds were healing under his clothes. In some blackened, guilt-ridden part of him, he is contrite, but he doubts his crimes against the last witch he'd acquainted can be forgiven.

He'll pay the price for it--and soon. Her final words for him still lodge in his chest like a ball of ice, chilling his blood right down to his core. Deeper still he knows he doesn't have any right to try and dislodge it.

Self-preservation. He's silent until that point when another mirthless half-smile threatens to tilt his lips. However, it's shorter-lived than the last, his earlier laughter burnt out with no spark to reignite it.]


I don't resemble them. They resemble me.

[And yet he gestures along the side of his face, as if contrasting his words with the very reality of his mask.]

To the ancients, daimonoi were intermediaries between man and deity. Now we're tormentors of the innocent and the faithful. In another thousand years, it'll mean something different.

But in most company I call myself Christopher Marlowe and leave the rest to the imagination.

[If the witch doesn't care for labels and silly titles, they'll have to resort to names.]
Edited 2021-06-17 06:33 (UTC)
unkindled_madness: (talking)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-06-17 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I see.

[There's definitely a story behind that, but Sephiroth doesn't care to ask for it.]

I suppose even your incomplete training may have some use here.
nanban: (bright)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-06-17 05:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nope," he says with an apologetic smile. The truth, as usual, is more complicated. He's heard the word (or a similar one). He connects it with fairy, though that seems like a gross oversimplification. He wouldn't think "fairy" applied to the woman in front of him. But what he knows of fairies other than storybook crap is that they can be mean or tricky as well. People probably steer clear of them.

Yeah, so, that tracks. But he'd rather let her tell him her own side; bias from his own world won't serve him here. And she hates humans. He'd like to stay on her good side while he can.

"If you're not used to it, probably. I like my world. My country. My life."

Not always, but why harp on it?

"But I'm a product of my society, y'know? I like parties and loud shit and fighting villains. I mean, I want a world where heroes don't have to be running ragged all the time. That's the dream, to live your life the way you want without all those obligations. To me, your world sounds pretty stressful. And mean. Discriminatory. Being totally removed from our regular places in the world is...disconcerting." That's an understatement but it works for now.

He's not sure if she doesn't like compliments or isn't used to them. But he's always been the type to push buttons on purpose, so it's not like he's going to reassess and not do it again.

"Surely somewhere on this island is a nice skull we can grab for you," he says with a laugh. (He'll regret this comparison later when he encounters that freaky skull on the beach.)
directrix: (neutral:  not my problem)

[personal profile] directrix 2021-06-17 06:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Another sip, tilting her head slightly in consideration. "The man himself," she finally says dryly.

It's always possible she's having him on, but she does seem particularly bitter about the whole thing. Of course, to her, Lucifer is indeed a person, one she'd first worshiped and then come to despise.

"Nothing but trouble." It seems less for his benefit and more of a personal observation.

But as to his suggestion, "It would be easier now." With Ambrose free, Hilda married, Sabrina...gone. "But I hate breaking in a new place."
nightschool: (🖋️ 88)

no worries!

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-18 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
"You'd be doing me a kindness, stranger." Because God knows he can't stand the rawness of sober awareness, if this is to be his fate. "I'll return the favor. We can toast to unexplored wrinkles in the fabric between heaven and hell."

He manages to keep all but a trickle of that same exhaustion out of the bone-dry words. Walter would have loved the unexplored part, naturally, but Matthew... Matthew would have loved the rest.

Try as he might not to let the pained tug on his heart reel him back into the fugue of thinking, remembering, missing, the man's response--an echo of a warning he'd received for prying into a future not his to know--makes the hairs on his arms pickle with uneasy deja vu, causing him to abruptly look at the other strangely. Almost wonderingly.

"You know, a friend once told me similar. He liked to talk about God, too. But I didn't listen on either count," he admits, the tilt to his head resigned. "I fear some of us only have the one way and there's not much any higher power can do about it."

And the damned have little to lose.

Straightening up from his perusal, he sighs as well, though his comes from a place of some resolve, as if an internal matter has been settled.

"Wait a moment. I'll go ahead." To look first--and perhaps if some otherworldly mischief lies ahead, he can provide first warning. What does he have to fear when the worst has already happened?
queenking: ([neutral] ew no why)

[personal profile] queenking 2021-06-18 02:40 am (UTC)(link)
Oh yeah, big old land of opportunity and all that? [Is that the era he's from? Saxsice isn't the best at history, but he seems like he's from some sort of pre-industrial-revolution time period.] It has it's moments, but a whole lot of it is a whole lotta nothin'.

[She grimaces, making grabby hands for the champagne again.] Anyways, enough about me, where're you from?
lickstheevidence: (Default)

[personal profile] lickstheevidence 2021-06-18 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
[Of course he is; he's an android, and only recently deviated. What other purpose is there for an android than to be needed and useful?

Anders is a smart man. Connor could argue the point at length, far beyond what might be necessary. But- corpse-y spirit? He'd argue against the existence of ghosts, too. He scrunches up his nose in distaste.]


Do you really think they might? I'll admit I'm torn- part of me does want to check, but the other part is now afraid of what I could find.
grayshulk: (pic#12958747)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-06-18 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
Who wouldn't enjoy being the subject of that joy? It's such a better thing to focus on, and she's inclined to lean into it and follow him to the dance floor.

Jennifer is light enough on her feet to compensate for the lack of most partners, and when she discovers that she doesn't have to? Well, then it's just a dreamy chance to let the music and training do the rest. Her form isn't perfect. She was never going to be a ballroom dancer even when she was in dance classes, but she knows how to waltz and how to follow a lead. The song is even familiar. The framework of the setting fades a little, and she simply lets herself enjoy his touch and the sense of being able to do something she loves with her body.
grayshulk: (pic#12883352)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-06-18 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
"The Guardians are about what I'd expect them to be so far?" That sounds a little weird, maybe, but she's already admitted to past experience with gods and other entities at this point. "But even saying that, it doesn't indicate much about what I'd expect about the power behind them."

"Kind of makes you wonder how many groups the islanders have seen, doesn't it?"
grayshulk: (pic#12883349)

[personal profile] grayshulk 2021-06-18 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
"The growth message does seem to be being pounded in and repeated," she agrees, "though I'm at a bit of a loss at how our particular surroundings are supposed to help with that. " It isn't quite a question, though there's an implication that she would welcome any perceived explanation or connections that Chloe has made.

"That," she pauses, catching herself wanting to speak faster than she possibly should in response to Chloe's suggestion. She lets out a slow breath before honestly responding. "You know, that is very possible."
extrasensory_problems: (bw_laugh)

awww that's a cute icon

[personal profile] extrasensory_problems 2021-06-18 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
Carter can feel how easily her body responds to both his movements and the song and it's obvious to him that he's not the only one with dance experience here. He smiles, leaning into the intimate connection that dancers can create, a gentle push and pull through body chemistry and touch.
He spins her out and across the floor only to guide her back in to his embrace, pivoting his body and sweeping her into a low dip. He holds her there for a moment, his hair flopping forward across his eyes before he very slowly brings her back up, enjoying the way both their bodies tense and release together.
libertalia: (99 - 3Ke1GtE)

[personal profile] libertalia 2021-06-18 08:26 pm (UTC)(link)
( all he can do is shoot rafe a glare, because unfortunately the giant fucking fish ate all his goddamn supplies, and throwing sand in rafe's face just doesn't have quite the same oomph as, say, a knife. or a gun.

thankfully, nate finally gets with goddamn the program, so most thoughts of murder are momentarily quelled.
)

Thank you.

( pointedly, in nate's direction. he catches the shirt a moment later, pushing himself up, back turned on them while he ties off the shirt around his waist. it's not exactly the fashion statement of the year, but it's better than being completely naked (even if half of his ass is still enjoying the ocean breeze).

once he's partially clothed, he turns back and heads toward nate, more than ready to put this unfortunate situation behind him.
)

Great, glad we've solved that mystery. ( so less like charybdis, more like jonah and the whale. the biblical irony isn't lost on him. he sets a hand on nate's shoulder, only slightly urgently directing him away from rafe. ) Let's go, huh?
libertalia: (109 - SB6McOT)

[personal profile] libertalia 2021-06-18 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
( the attendant looks a little helplessly between them, unsure if she should abandon her first customer for another — if you could wait just a moment, sir — but sam just smiles reassuringly at her. )

Can't upset the wife now, can we? ( said to nate with an easy laugh, eyebrows raised as if to say you know what i mean?

then, to the attendant, with a gesture toward nate when she still looks a bit unsure:
) Please, go ahead. I insist. I'll be ready with my decision when you get back.

( after a moment's consideration, the attendant eventually laughs shakily and nods, smiling at nate with a how can i help you today, sir? )
nightschool: (🖋️ 120)

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-19 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
About your life, or your prescience?

[The reach for humor is still weak, but it's there. However, it hardly takes him longer than the span of a few breaths, considering the skull between each, to dampen it.]

I understand being on the outside. I've existed behind that divide my entire life. [He feeds the enchantment what it wants, one flat, even-toned morsel after another. Truths he's long come to terms with.] I didn't expect that to change until I met someone who made me feel... a part of something, finally.

[And it had been good, that feeling of belonging. Not perfect, and not what he would've wished in a perfect world where hearts get their desires, but as close as he could wish. For a time. Before Diana Bishop, and the harder truths she brought.

The skull pulls it all out of him--the fresh shame, the old aches. The loss in facing what he'd always known: that he was living in a house of cards that had to come down eventually. He just hadn't expected it so soon, or so catastrophically.]


But I doubt I'll ever see them again, in this world or mine. I don't know that there's much to return to without them.

[There's a sort of wretched, hollow relief in letting the confession slip free, although it does nothing to lighten an already dark night, or his heart. He shakes his head ruefully, meeting Benedict's eye.]

There, now you know something I haven't told before. Does that help to even the scales?
aviate: (( gl ) the thing is...)

[personal profile] aviate 2021-06-19 08:42 am (UTC)(link)
[Maybe he should let up, the guy did lose his planet (world?) after all.]

Alright, alright, you do you. I guess I could give you a pass.
dothelokimotion: (It was an alien carcass)

[personal profile] dothelokimotion 2021-06-19 10:04 am (UTC)(link)
[ loki smiles, dry. ]

How very gracious of you.
suckonthis: (just ride off into the sunset with me go)

[personal profile] suckonthis 2021-06-19 05:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[ How could he be saved from something curled dormant inside of himself? Ryo doesn't know whether it is more hopelessly optimistic of the teen before him or if it was all a ruse; some hopeless attempt to save Akira's own sense of duty to the memory of their friendship. Both options pain him to think about.

His fingers curl into fists when the urge to reach out becomes unbearable. He isn't mad at Akira; he's mad at whatever it is that's thrust a wrench between them. Akira continues to speak, promising Ryo a plan of action if it all went south. The humorless laugh that follows is completely unintended. ]


It won't be a fight. I don't want to fight you.

[ It's so similar to what Ryo, memories rediscovered and powers complete, had told Akira before they'd parted ways and prepared for their final fight. The only difference here is that the blond doesn't realize just what 'it won't be a fight' could really mean. ]

What is saving me going to do for you? It's not for me; you've already made it clear that I'm a lost cause. This isn't to preserve our friendship.

[ He has to stop himself, pressing his lips firmly together. There's a chance that his questioning will anger the teen but he's reacting to the pent up emotions attached to his newest reality. Taking a deep breath, he relaxes his hands, eying him. ]

Is dangling this over me really a mercy, Akira? Hoping that you could look at me in any way close to what I remember... I've had drinks and I've made more sense.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-19 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ That's not really an answer, satisfying or otherwise, to what he's been trying to get at - but even it has a ring of familiarity. He still isn't sure what, if anything, differentiates the man across from him from simply being some maligned human (as Anders would consider himself, honestly, because mage isn't also mutually exclusive, there). But he's also starting to feel like asking is pointless.

And he had been managing to scrape some sort of enjoyment out of this dreary party. That alone is enough to maintain his mild yet persistent ire. ]


'Tormentors of the innocent and the faithful'? I think I heard a Chanter shout that about mages, once.

[ Or maybe it was just in the Chant. Anders might have a propensity to get a bit preachy, himself, but he's never been devout enough to actually pay attention during sermons. ]

You can call me Anders. Though if you're always going to be so sour about it, I pray you won't often.
mewnifestos: (Default)

[personal profile] mewnifestos 2021-06-19 07:57 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Not ghost, spirit. Big difference. But Connor will just have to learn that, too, in this now probably inevitable argument.

In the meantime, though. ]


Oh, no, now you have to. Or if you don't, I will. Then I can follow you around, quoting passages from whatever dreadful tomes I do find. ...On second thought, that might be more fun.

[ He's joking. Probably. ]
nightschool: (🖋️ 26)

[personal profile] nightschool 2021-06-19 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
As have I. All creatures share that in common, if nothing else.

[And among cultures, it would seem--along with the same rampant hypocrisies. There's no gain in taking a swipe at the request and all it contains of the latter; he merely acquiesces by putting a hand to his chest and, wordlessly and wryly, inclining his head in a more overt bow the second time around. As you say.

Now that the witch understands--and by all accounts, agrees with--why he'd kept his distance, he doubts they'll have much contact worth worrying about. He tamps down on the many questions he wants to ask, save for the most pressing.]


Perhaps this Ancient will see fit to answer them. As for my interest in you, I was wondering how you and your magic were faring with this enchantment.