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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

unkindled_madness: (talking)

003

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
[Sephiroth's first impulse on coming across a sobbing young man on the beach is... to keep walking. If some stranger is dealing so poorly with this situation, it has nothing to do with him.

But there are... things crawling up out of the thick fog on the water. Monsters, as it appears. Sephiroth isn't alarmed, but he stops and raises his voice to address the pathetic figure.]


You may want to run.
incelligent: (30)

[personal profile] incelligent 2021-05-02 07:29 am (UTC)(link)
[Despite the fact that Sephiroth's voice is devoid of any and all emotion, there is a soothing quality to it. Maybe that's exactly it. His tone, and the depth to it, or... Complete lack thereof, is the opposite of what Simon is feeling right now, which is everything bad. Loneliness, fear, shame, and anger all at once. A miserable cocktail, too strong for this young man to brace.

Quickly, he takes one big sniff, as if he's trying to somehow turn his nose inside out, though really it's because he knows that he looks disgusting. If there is one thing that Simon despises, utterly and completely, it's looking weak, so he dries his tears and turns around-
]

A-ah!

[Only to be aghast at what he sees.]

What... What are those things?

[He is petrified.

Not since the first time he spotted a Gohm has he felt terror this visceral. With nulls, at least Simon knew what they were, to some degree. They were train things. Threats, dangerous and not to be trusted, but also somehow toys for amusement.

These are something else. Far more dangerous.
]

And what do they want with us?
unkindled_madness: (talking)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-02 02:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Beyond appearance, I couldn't tell you.

[He's seen plenty of corpses, and he's heard of the concept of the walking dead, but zombies aren't really his genre.]

I expect they mean to kill us.

[That statement isn't entirely without emotion; it's a laughable idea, that this shambling collection of dead things could kill him. And maybe that kind of confidence is reassuring.

He's armed only with the small knife he took from the temple, but he hasn't drawn it, yet, because that seems like it would get messy. A glance out of the corner of his eye tells him Simon hasn't made any move to flee. So, when the first zombie reaches him, Sephiroth sidesteps its grasping arms, grabs it by the neck, and hurls it back into the other approaching undead.]
incelligent: (23)

[personal profile] incelligent 2021-05-07 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
[Gathering himself takes a moment, and when Simon rises to his feet, he falters, shoes sliding in the wet sand. It's not as though he doesn't know how to fight, but it's more that he's learned that taking chances with unknown threats is a serious hazard.

He wonders, for a moment, if he were to die here- Would Grace even know? Is this where passengers go when they disappear off the train? He couldn't tell you. And so far, he's the only one he's met of his kind.
]

Is this all because of that stupid robot?

[Suddenly somehow, everything fades around him.

He can't blame all his problems on anything here, not anything he knows. Somehow, this seems even beyond One-One's doing. Nothing here is a null, they are stupid parts of the train itself, and this is not that otherworldly vehicle-
]

No...

[He turns to face one of the Things, a ghastly and haunting mess, with it's skull peeking through thin layers of rotting flesh. The smell of the undead is foul, a combination of death and decay and... Saltwater. The kind that he will never forget.]

It's her fault.

[And it's with that he regains his strength- By placing the blame on someone else entirely...

It's what helps him deliver a high kick to the monster's would-be gut.
]
unkindled_madness: (masamune)

[personal profile] unkindled_madness 2021-05-07 01:54 pm (UTC)(link)
...well then.

[Simon is clearly going through something that Sephiroth does not understand and, frankly, doesn't care about. But, he is a little surprised that someone who was in a ball sobbing not one minute ago is attempting to fight.

Sephiroth is quite confident he doesn't need the help, but as long as Simon isn't getting in his way then so be it.

He doesn't know why they're being set upon by the undead, but the fact that their opponents
are already dead means there is no reason whatsoever for him to hold back. It's the most at ease he's felt since coming here. Forget that damn temple, battle is where he feels at home, even without a sword.

The zombies aren't especially strong, or fast, but they keep getting back up after his blows knock them down, and the heavy fog obscures their number. One manages to get a hand on his arm; he grabs it and pulls, inadvertantly separating the arm from its owner. He tosses the limb aside and slams his fist into the zombie's face, hard enough to cave it in. That one... might not be getting back up.]