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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.
hal jordan | dc | open
[Hal is considerably less interested in the surroundings in comparison to the contents of the packs they've been given. He's heard this all before, their supplies are infinitely more important than whatever makes this place differ from everywhere else he's been.
The contents of his pack are placed neatly around him as he starts to repack his bag with a precision that suggests a military background. If someone comes by he'll look up with a friendly grin.]
Seen anything else around worth taking with us?
ii. masquerade
[The domino mask (in green of course) hides absolutely nothing other than his cheekbones. He's not quite comfortable in his getup, fancy balls aren't really his thing, but he'll lean in to the nearest person to whisper.]
Know what this symbol is supposed to be? And don't say it's a secret, I've heard that enough times already.
iii. wildcard
[Or hit me up at
i. temple!
When the man looks up with his pleasurable grin, his cheerfulness, his pack's contents spread around with a neatness, it simply further irritates the dark fey. She is a tall, imposing creature: horned and winged and she does not hide the sharpness of her teeth as she lifts her upper lip at him, returning his friendliness with the opposite. ]
What more could one possibly need? [ It's said in a cool, sarcastic tone, mocking of her own words. She's clearly not pleased. ] Our hosts have already been so generous.
no subject
More socks are always nice. Don't underestimate the value of warm feet.
no subject
Is that really where your concern lies, in this place? We may be sacrificed to some goddess or god at any moment, and you are speaking of— socks? Is that what you called them?
[ ...Clearly, she doesn't trust their hosts at all, or know what socks are. Her kind don't use them... ]
no subject
I'd rather not spend all day worrying about a maybe. I'd rather focus on something I can do something about.
[He picks up a pair of socks and holds it up for her to look at. There's an ease to which he explains basic human items as he's done this before.]
These are socks. You put them on your feet and you look human shaped enough so I'll assume you know what those are. Humans aren't that great at regulating our body temperature so they're just one of the many ways we keep warm.
no subject
It might be wise of her to learn even the slightest things that she can. One never knows when it might come in handy, when she could possibly use it to her advantage. So she does listen to the man explain about these socks. ]
Your kind do chill frightfully easily. [ She agrees, a little flash of dark amusement in her eyes. It almost sounds like an insult (of course it is). She's a prickly one even when she's Learning A Thing. ]
...Cloth upon your head helps in much the same way, does it not? [ She does have a little bit of experience, caring for humans. And she remembers how Aurora had needed warmth upon her head, as an infant. But she hadn't known if it held true for adults, if they continue to lose heat that way as they grow older, through their heads, feet. ]
no subject
Yeah. You've met other humans before?
[Maybe he's dumbing it down a little too much.]
no subject
And she has nurtured one of them, grown to see what it is to love something more than you could ever love yourself. ....Divulging any of this, even at the barest minimum, is a tricky thing, however. ]
I have experience with them. Though where I am from, humans are not too favourable to my kind, and we do not cross paths often.
[ It's easier to speak about this than it is the more tender things, she finds. She has known being perceived as a monster far longer than she has anything else. ....Though this one remains strangely unbothered by her. ]
You do not seem afraid.
no subject
You haven't done anything to suggest I should.
[And he doesn't scare easily, but if he thought her dangerous he could be more wary.]
no subject
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.
(no subject)
ii.
No clue. [ It seems vaguely familiar, but he's seen a lot of shit, so. ] I guess sayin' it could be extraterrestrial is redundant.
no subject
It's probably not extraterrestrial.
[There's a high chance he'd know what it is if it was. Even without the ring with him, he knew more than most people.]
no subject
I dunno. Could be from Mars.
[ It's a joke, right? ]
no subject
Then they'd be a totally new species.
no subject
[ John Carter stuff. Though, the aliens in the pulps always looked like regular ladies with less clothing. ]
no subject
no subject
I was joking.
no subject
[Well he feels stupid.]
I talk to more aliens than other humans these days. Must be out of practice.
no subject
Are you joking?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
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i. temple
[ Which doesn't taste so bad, and he's always inclined to take that first, not knowing or trusting where the next one is coming from. ]
[ Dick squints at him. ]
... Have we met? You seem familiar.
no subject
[Hal hadn't initially given the other man more than a glance, but his question makes him check again. He can't place the man, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything and he does seem familiar.]
Huh, maybe? Did you ever serve? I used to be in the Air Force.
...or you know people who love capes?
[Look, no one expects subtlety from him.]
no subject
Yeah. Plenty. I'm from Gotham.
[ Dun dun DUN ]
no subject
Then you probably recognise me from the League. Green Lantern.
no subject
[ The kind that says, oh boy, they really couldn't send Superman? (Sorry Hal. Dick plays favourites.) But a Green Lantern surely can't be as stuck here as the rest of them, right? His eyes drop to Hal's hand, looking for the telltale ring. ]
Yeah, I know you. I'm Dick Grayson.
no subject
Ah. This thing again. So are you still Nightwing or Robin or something else entirely? Just trying to get my bearings here.
[His hands are bare which might be an explanation for how he managed to end up here.]