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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
That didn't make the prospect of confessing to a total stranger sound any better, though. She runs a finger along the edge of the mask and thinks, brow furrowed, although it's concealed by the blasted mask. But the cogs are turning and she's trying to think of a secret she can share.
"Oh, just ask me something. Something you've always wondered. Something you've been sure I'd never tell you."
no subject
"Doctor, there are so many things you never tell me." And her chest aches even for saying it. Darillium had made up for much, but not nearly all. There are so many things that remain unsaid between them.
Every question she wants to ask that matters seems cruel, and there isn't any part of River that wants to hurt her wife. Nor is she certain she wants to hear the answers, the honest answers. "Did you stay with me because you knew how it ended, because it wasn't indefinite?"
no subject
"On Darillium or in general? Those are...sort of two different answers. Things had changed so much by the time we went to Darillium." It's a massive understatement to say that The Doctor is bad at relationships.
She wishes this conversation was happening someplace quiet, just the two of them.
no subject
"I don't know." There's a sound that might be the start of a laugh, but it's choked, almost painful. "Both?"
Oh, she wishes she could still drink. Bloody mask. She could use a drink right about now. Something to do with her hands. Something to distract herself. Instead, she pushes forward. She's started this conversation. They might as well finish it.
"I knew. Of course, I knew. Why do you think I was always running?" River knows she sounds more emotional than she'd like, even muffled by the mask, and she takes a moment to breathe, pull herself back together. "I didn't realize you would be there, that you would be so young. Did you love me because you'd already saw it end?"
no subject
"No," she says for a start. "I was...intrigued by you. Confused and curious. But I never wanted to love you at all. I certainly didn't want to marry you." She breathes out a sigh and takes a moment to think.
"It's funny how every few centuries, I look back on my past and think about how young and foolish I was. I thought I was ancient at 900. I thought I had everything figured out. Always the smartest one in the room. You know that's why I usually travel with humans. Their intellect can hardly compare, but you..."
The Doctor glances up at River without lifting her head. Her hair falls forward and conceals what the mask doesn't already hide.
"I think I resented the idea that you could be anywhere near as smart as me. You weren't as old. You weren't a proper Time Lord. You were a foolish child with hearts in her eyes, desperate for me to notice her. Clever, sure, but not like me. No, nobody can ever compare to me and my big brain." There's some very obvious sarcasm to her words.
"Even if I hadn't seen how it would end, I would've known it would. It always does. I don't let myself love anyone, because it never lasts. It can't. I'm doomed, I think, to be the Lonely God wandering forever through time and space, playing the hero, collecting young, impressionable humans and leaving them behind. Because I can't stand to watch them grow old and wither and die while I go on and on."
Another sigh and this time she picks her head up to look at River.
"I fell in love with you because you're you. Because you're clever, you challenge me, you scare me, you fascinate me. No matter how badly I treated you, your love for me never wavered. I think that makes you special. I know the kind of man I was, the kind of person I still am. I'm aware of how selfish I am. When I fell in love with you, I loved you selfishly. We spent 24 years together on Darillium because I knew I would lose you and I didn't want to. I hate goodbyes. I had to let you go. I had to let time runs its course. But I wasn't going to let that happen without savouring every second I had left with you."
no subject
But isn't that how she'd so often felt? Like a child, trying to live up to the Doctor's expectations of her, eager for his attention and approval. Even now, part of her wants the Doctor to see her, to love her, despite the fact she's been damaged. She's hurt and she's angry. He'd left her behind. And still, River gravitates to her like she's the sun.
Tears well in River's eyes as she nods, and she takes a breath to keep herself from crying. She learned long ago how not to cry, and she'll be damned if she starts crying now, even if it's well-earned. Her voice is nearly steady when she speaks again, "I still love you. You know that?"
A lone tear has managed to escape her tight rein, fortunately on the open side of the mask, and she roughly swipes it away, annoyed. "And you were selfish."
no subject
The Doctor steps closer to River, strokes the pad of her thumb across her exposed cheek to wipe away the remaining dampness.
"I still love you too, you know." Her hearts ache to see the pain she's caused River. "Our time together was finite, but my love for you wasn't. Isn't. I kept your picture on my desk the whole seventy years I was at St. Luke's."
no subject
Even if she's shown her in thousands of little ways, it's so rare to hear the Doctor say the words. There's good reason she'd spent so many years believing she hadn't loved her at all. It's nice to hear them.
"I always knew it would end. I even had some idea of when. Somehow, I still thought," she sighs, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "I wanted to come back to you. I wanted more than 24 years, Doctor."
no subject
"I guess I dug myself that hole." It wasn't often the Doctor admitted her mistakes to others. Especially not ones that she felt so confident about. For centuries she was certain it was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
"I never thought I'd see you again. I thought our story came to a close, that the days of us intersecting each other's timelines were over." She brushes her hand over River's arm. "Yet here you are. In the flesh, it seems."
no subject
If the Doctor understood quite how those touches were affecting her...
Proper interaction with the physical world is something River's life has been lacking for far too long. Most any touch she's felt since The Library had been drawn from memory, imperfect in its attempt to mimic a living experience.
no subject
"I think it's time we get that mask off of you," she says to River. "We've both kept things from each other for as long as we've known each other. I guess now's no longer the time to try to spare each other."
no subject
Her smile is hidden by the mask, but it lights her eyes as she lifts a hand to cup her wife's cheek. She's as beautiful as ever, and River's hearts ache with just as much love.
"Well, then, Sweetie, what are you going to ask me?"
no subject
She puts her hand over River's hand on the corner of her cheek and brings her brain back around to the topic at hand. "I think you know what secrets you harbour way better than I do, sweetie."
no subject
The hand on hers pulls her out of her thoughts, and she nods slowly, taking a careful breath. She'd kept so many secrets in life. Small ones. Big ones. And now, she feels as though she's holding onto even more. Perhaps a small one to start. She suspects they're going to have enough to talk about after this evening.
"Did Jack ever tell you we got married?"
no subject
"Who aren't you married to?" They could probably have a competition about which one of them has been married the most. The Doctor has her suspicions River would win.
River having yet another husband doesn't surprise the Doctor and she assumes it's not serious. None of them ever were. The Doctor was the only husband River really loved after all.
no subject
"It's a fair question," she murmurs, "You know, I even married myself once."
She's stalling, and it's obvious. Of course, the Doctor always has had a tendency to miss the obvious. Sighing, River squeezes her wife's hand.
"Jack was a little different, Sweetie." There's a brief pause before she concedes, "Maybe not the marriage. But the relationship."
no subject
"What do you mean, exactly, by different?" She has a pretty good idea of what River means, but for better or worse, she needs to hear her wife say it. No matter how much it might hurt.
no subject
This is even harder than she'd thought it would be. She'd had so many excuses, but in the end, isn't this the real reason she'd always kept them from each other?
"He and I knew each other almost as long as we have. He was in New York, when I was still Melody. I was at his funeral." River's grateful for the mask. She knows, behind it, she must look as stricken as she still feels saying it, though it's been so long ago now. Her voice drops to barely more than a whisper. "He saw me at Darillium, briefly."
She wants the Doctor to realize their timelines had been nearly as intertwined as their own.
"We never could make it work properly. There was always something else getting in the way." She has the grace not to say someone else. "I very easily could have let myself love him, Sweetie. Maybe I did."