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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.
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.
no subject
tiddiestwelve sparkling wings. The cold emotion he carried as they both prepared to their final war as reckless humans turned on each other. Akira knew Ryo's true identity, but he wasn't sure what he should say or do about it in regards to his friend since he sincerely seemed to not know who or what he was. Maybe it would be better this way. Maybe.. he could rescue Ryo this way. His hand retracts once Ryo orders his water. ]I'm.. well... I want to have a conversation with you.
[ Because, despite everything terrible and everything horrible, Akira still couldn't stop caring about Ryo. Ryo his friend. Not Satan his nemesis. Fuck that guy. ]
no subject
Listen, pals shouldn't have a 'we need to talk' talk. ]
Here I thought you wanted to invite me to dance. [ It's his bad decisions and the frustration of being so far away that pushes him to embarrass himself. Ryo wouldn't know what to do if Akira actually agreed. He raises the fresh glass of water to his lips to give him a moment to shut up and swallow his pride. He glances over his shoulder before returning his attention to Akira. He appears to be making an effort to push away from the bar. ] Did you want to go somewhere more private?
do we cw for toxic masc
[ The response is immediate. Yeah, no, he's shutting that down quick but it's dumb that he says that instead of "we're both complicated." As Akira notices that Ryo is pushing away from the bar, he follows suite. ]
That's fine. You lead the way where ever you want to go, but I'm warning you.. I might get angry again.
[ who says this ]
yes, we cw for toxic masc and just... toxic. pls.
Just admit that you don't know how to dance.
[ And quips. Quips for days. Akira warning him that he might get angry sobers him up and he brushes himself off, looking around for a sign of an empty corridor or something. ]
Over that way.
[ He has no problem cutting through the Travelers and the civilians alike that are just standing and mingling. He's good at dipping around, weaving a path to the corridor. It's clear that whomever is throwing the party wants the ballroom to be the main event, but the passage is still lit. Or is that sus, Akira? Too complicated? Yeah. Too complicated. ]
I didn't think I'd be talking to you so soon. What's going on?
[ Just going to lean against this wall... to avoid appearing anything other than coolly collected. That's a lie. ]
no subject
[ He can't. But he doesn't like being told he can't do something. Absolutely not. As Ryo weaves through the crowds of people, Akira recalls a similar feeling when he was weaving through the crowds of people at the Sabbath party. Why is he always looking at this guy's back
side? Ryo has places to go; things to do. Apparently always.Akira lets out a shaky breath as they enter the corridor. ]
Do you sincerely not know who you are? What you are? I know I probably sound crazy to you if you don't, but to me, you're not how I knew you. And it's crazy.. everything that has happened between what I know and what you know. You said you just remembered Sirene's battle with me. Ryo, almost two years have passed since that happened. I'm even 18 years old now.
no subject
in a fitted tux no less you better enjoy that sight, so be it.He's quiet when it comes time for Akira to actually start this conversation. Part of the blond wants to lash out because he's tired of being reminded that in the future, he supposedly does something terrible. Something he doesn't want to believe.
But his mask has kind of been scaring the hell out of him all evening. He takes a deep breath and holds it for a moment before letting go. ]
I know who I am now, Akira. I can't imagine a world where I would make you hate me so much. [ It's kind of uncomfortable to look at his ex-friend, but he does his best to try. He doesn't succeed in hiding his discomfort as far as his expression goes, but he continues. As always. ] Part of me wishes I could just call you crazy but I know you better than that...
[ Does he sound like he's had a lot of time to reflect on the hatred his best friend harbors for him? Sure. Of course he's upset. It's a whole damned disaster as far as he's concerned. He motions to the mask stuck on his face. ]
This thing terrifies me; all I can think of is what you keep telling me, but it's not there. Would it be better if it were?
[ What is he even trying to reason? Ryo doesn't know, really. ]
no subject
I could save you, maybe, from what it is to come. Or not come. I can't forgive you, but maybe I could help you.
[ Akira places a hand on his own chest, trying to steady his breathing with long inhales and slow exhales. His eyes flutter shut, but he seems completely stable. ]
You should know this, though. I will fight you if I have to and I will not have mercy.
no subject
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.