Entry tags:
- ! event log,
- a discovery of witches: kit marlowe,
- dc: harley quinn,
- detroit: become human: chloe,
- detroit: become human: connor,
- dragon age: anders,
- final fantasy: sephiroth,
- locked tomb: harrowhark nonagesimus,
- marvel: carter ghazikhanian,
- marvel: jennifer walters,
- marvel: loki odinson,
- marvel: wade wilson,
- my hero academia: takami keigo,
- oc: elenore evans,
- oc: saxsice king,
- penny dreadful: victor frankenstein,
- south park: kyle broflovski,
- uncharted: elena fisher,
- uncharted: nathan drake,
- uncharted: rafe adler,
- uncharted: samuel drake
Destination: 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!
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.

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.

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.

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.
no subject
He tilts his head curiously at Vlad's assessment of the last place they'd been thrown at. His easygoing manner doesn't really change, though.
"Huh. You think these people on these islands have been doing this awhile? Makes sense. Wonder what makes us different from whoever came first. Probably not a whole damn lot to the residents of these islands."
It does make him wonder, though. Did the others fail somehow? His question is a real one. What is the difference, anyway?
"I didn't find anything super useful on the last one. Maybe we'll shed some light here we didn't there. Don't get me wrong. I don't buy any of that whole shtick about redemption. But it's like believing in fairies or something, right? Why take a chance just in case something is true." He waits for Vlad's opinion on that one.
no subject
The last question, the one the winged man seemed to be waiting for an answer to had him giving a one-shouldered shrug to. "Redemption is something all those who've sinned should stride towards. At least attempting to do so means one has the potential to be redeemed. I've met men and monsters that see no ill in monstrous actions. No need for redemption, because they have no fault. It's always the ones that need it the most that fail to see it. Truth? The truth is what you have faith in. What lies in your own heart."
no subject
Then Vlad talks about sin and Hawks is actually surprised. That's not really a word he thinks about. He's not the spiritual type himself. He has faith in some things, mostly his own abilities and the abilities of his colleagues, but that's not what this guy is talking about.
"I'm not really a faith guy," he says with a shrug. "I don't know about sin and all that. There's hard decisions in hard times. Either way, I don't want to take the risk that my whole world could be jeopardized, not if I could save it. So whatever this weird mystery is, guess it means we gotta solve it."
The smile he forces back onto his face is pretty convincing; he's been doing this shtick for a long time.
"I'm Hawks, by the way."
no subject
As for the mystery, well, he wasn't sure of that, either. The Ferryman hadn't been forthcoming in bringing them here. The beings he'd found that lived here, that weren't Travelers like himself and Hawks didn't seem inclined to lay out the facts of anything. In fact, most of them seemed not to know what was going on at all. This whole thing was just too vague. Why him? Why any of them? To what cause? Whose eyes were they seeking redemption in? It was all just too uncertain, and he was sure every person that came here through the powers that be would have their own methods behind it. "Vlad Tepes. The more we meet among ourselves, the better. If we're to all be here, it may be wise to all be familiar with each other and what we can bring to the table, if a table is needed."
no subject
"Yeah, fair enough," he says. He knows about hidden dangers, too. He can sense a lot with his feathers. He thought about leaving some around to listen in, but he hasn't pinpointed where to do that yet. Besides, that's a thing he's not entirely keen on doing, the whole spy business. Not only is it a ton of work, it's also dishonest. Just because he's good at lying doesn't mean he enjoys it.
Hawks might have heard Vlad's name somewhere before, but he can't place it, so he doesn't make the historical connection. It's certainly an unusual name to his ears, but then so are other names he's heard here. Whatever Mera's whole name was. Maleficent, which sounds more like a title than a name. Vlad Tepes.
Hawks isn't Hawks's given name, but he doesn't go around telling people his name. Too much baggage associated with it and the Commission doesn't like to tarnish their reputation. It's part of the deal. Generally, Hawks doesn't miss it.
"Great minds, my friend," he says with a smile. "If a bunch of us got carted from that island to this one, something tells me we're in for more of the same before we figure out what the real game is here." If the real game is redemption, well, they'll figure that out when they get there.
"What I can do is pretty obvious, I'd imagine," he says, spreading his wings open for emphasis before letting them settle closed again. That's somewhat misleading; he can do more with his wings than just fly, after all. He's just used to being cagey on purpose, hiding behind his easy smile. Old habits and all that.
"Maybe we should make a registry," he jokes. "I mean, this watch things are a start, but whoever's in charge is almost certainly monitoring them."
no subject
Hawks brought his mind back from wandering by spreading those large wings, and he compared them to the other set he'd seen here. Both were functional, so there was that. "Likely not as good an idea for all as you'd think. I've seen what making lists of certain types can do. And then there's the willingness to share. We can hardly insist on someone laying all of themselves bare to those they don't know." If asked, perhaps he'd share what he knew about himself, but it wasn't pressing at the moment, and there were those here who already knew of his abilities. Some of them, anyway.
no subject
Hawks is pretty sure he doesn't want it. He already knows he has to do shady shit because that's his job. He's trained for it and his powers work for it, even if he finds spying and all that pretty distasteful. But redemption? That seems pointless.
"And there's that whole thing about, you know, our worlds being in danger. Did they make that up? Hard to say when we can't exactly phone home."
He looks back at Vlad considering.
"Okay, so I'm pretty obvious. I can fly, but some kind of nonsense here keeps me from flying away. I tried. But what about you? Any magic or cool things you can do?" So far most of the people he's met have something like that. But it could be something simpler; maybe Vlad is a soldier back home. Or maybe he's the governor, who knows?
no subject
As Hawks spoke, it became clear to Vlad that the man considered himself and his abilities the norm. Even in his own world, what Vlad could do would be considered extraordinary, if not just sinisterly monstrous. Hawks would stick out like a sore thumb if he found himself visiting the land the vampire hailed from, at any time period he'd lived through. That Hawks seemed so blasé about it, casually mentioning what he was capable of, he had to wonder if that was all he was able to do. "One might call some of the things I can do magical. I certainly can't claim to understand where the source of the power of the abilities come from. But I've found that there's... changes and limitations myself."
He'd tried to call the clouds after a discussion with Maleficent on their first island. It seemed that he was incapable of even darkening the sky. But as he'd also found he could walk in the sunlight of this land and the last... he had no cause to complain about that removal. The clouds were called to come between him and what would end him. Without that threat, there was no need, was there?
no subject
He tilts his head to the side, considering, studying the man in front of him for a moment.
"What limit did you hit?" he asks, rather than ask something more general about what Vlad's powers might be. He's curious, sure, but he's also not an idiot. If this guy doesn't want to spill, he won't push too hard. But he'll file it away for later, partially because of his own personal curiosity but also because if there's something Vlad isn't talking about, there must be a reason for that.
no subject
"Truthfully, I'm not certain I'd be all that bothered if I lost all of my... abilities and the effects that came with them."
no subject
"That sounds like a hell of a thing to lose," he says. "I'm sorry I can't see it."
It sounds like Vlad has some sort of price to pay for his abilities, though.
"Your abilities aren't just something you're born with?" he asks. "How'd you get 'em?" He's nosy by nature, so he just asks. If Vlad won't answer, he can always move on to something else.
no subject
Even then, he'd have been able to hold out, if not for Mirena's tragedy and sacrifice. Perhaps it has been what was intended all along and he'd just been another pawn on the chessboard of dueling gods. Curious about what myths and legends were spread across a world that clearly was not his own, Vlad opted to answer plainly. "Have you any vampires in your land?"
no subject
"I don't know anything about deals with devils, my man," he says. "But that sounds ill-informed. Or maybe just desperate." It's not an accusation; it's more probing statement.
Hawks is a lot sharper than he lets on. He's not the number two hero for his good looks, okay? Just because he lets people think he's dumb, or he's lazy, or whatever...none of those things are true. He can put that devil and vampire thing together. But he doesn't say it out loud.
"Vampires? Like...turns into bats, allergic to garlic, got a mad on for blood vampires?" He thinks for a moment, or rather, puts on a show of thinking. "I don't think so. I guess there might be someone with a quirk that sort of functions in a similar vein." Pun intended. "But nah, not like the stories say. Are they common where you're from, or just like some one off?"
no subject
"Bats, yes. Garlic... not so much." The blood part seemed obvious, and at least the man knew what a vampire was and he didn't have to walk him through it. He thought of the question, then sighed. "Not so common, I would think. Aside from myself and the one who made me, there may be a few stragglers still around." He could never be sure that he'd rid all of his people from the curse, if they'd all come for vengeance or if some had hied off on their own.