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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
No.
[His features twist into something of a snarl. How easy it is for Simon to turn from sad to outright irate, as the transformation is quick, smooth like butter. Or at least, it would be, if there weren't those obvious tear stains on his face. With all the ferocity of a wild animal, Simon grabs Loki's ankle, though his grip is a mere threat. It's hardly something to fear for a God like Loki himself. Still, perhaps there's a chance this man will pity someone who is so obviously very young and in great emotional distress... Maybe. If anything, he might get a laugh out of the sight of someone baring teeth while continuing to sniffle.]
no subject
Well, then. This is a poor place to lay down and die.
no subject
I'm not lying down and I am not gonna die here, I just-
[He inhales sharply.]
Needed some space.
[Earth to Simon Laurent, yes, hello... It's time for your Very Special Episode to be over because those are um corPSES rising from the dEPTHS-]
What's your problem?
no subject
You're going to have to be more specific.
[ as he looks at the ocean. ]
Also there are zombies coming your way so dying might be more likely than you realize.
no subject
[He roughly wipes the remaining tears and snot from his face with tired hands, finally looking over and into the distance at those creepy undead ghouligans just rising up and out of the murky waters.]
As if this place couldn't get any worse.
[He is combat proficient, despite his slender build. There are times at which Simon has taken on many a train denizen at once, but in those situations he had his gear and his team. This man is a stranger, and probably not a trustworthy one at that.]
Please tell me you can melt them with your mind or somethin'.
[He prepares himself to run, but how far, and for how long?]
no subject
I could, but really I don't want to. I would just leave.
no subject
[He looks up with an expression that can only be described as "confuzzled." Because um, that's a horrifying thought that someone can do that-]
...Sayin' "pretty please" isn't gonna do me any good here, huh.
[But also? He
lokilow-key wants to watch-]Welp.
Guess I can add running from skeleton bozos to my resume.
[He says, all while dusting himself off and and preparing to make a break for it.]
You happen to know which way the town is? 'Cause uh...
After dark everything kinda starts to the look the same.
[Teamwork begins with two people trusting each other.
Oh boy.]
no subject
fine. he gestures for simon to follow. ]
I know the way. Come along.
no subject
Guess I don't have anything better to do.
[look who is trying to play it cool and pretend the wasn't being a Big Baby just a few minutes prior
Simon attempts to sniffle quietly.]
You're not gonna chop me up and sell my liver on the black market, are ya?
[S I M O N]
'Cause I've seen the other guys, and if you're harvesting organs, theirs are probably gonna get you a better deal...
[SIMON!!! MR. LAURENT...]
no subject
I'm not sure why liver-selling is such a lucrative business but no. I have no interest in killing or maiming you. What would be the point?
im screaming who talks like this
[That's a bubbly, nervous sound.]
What would be the point! You'd just get your hands dirty. And, even if you didn't bother to use your hands-
[simon... your Rationale here, it's not painting you in the best light-]
It'd just be a big ol' mess. Glad to see that we're on the same page here!
Uh, kind of.
[he is Grateful that his measly human body is being spared...]
So... H-how's your night goin'?
shakespeare in the RP
Well enough, I suppose. I was hoping for more answers but they'll come.
no subject
Yeah?
[Simon sighs, still staying a good arm's length away from Loki, though his shoulders are a tad less tense than they were at the start.]
You think so?
[He eyes the ground nervously.]
Say, when you were on the beach earlier, did you start feelin' kinda funny? Like you wanted to spill your guts to whoever came close enough, haha... Ew, right? Barf! Blech.
no subject
The skull? Yes, it did seem to have a strong spell placed upon it. I try not to linger when the truth comes calling.
[ he much prefers to have control over his narrative than to spew his regrets and feelings onto the sand. who knows who would see? who could be watching?
in this world, in all worlds, loki has only known it to hurt. ]
no subject
[He's no Magic Being, but um, he's always thought that stuff was kind of cool. At least, in his teenage imagination. There's something like it in Simon's self-insert fantasy novel. Gross.]
Are you some kinda magician? Or...
[He tilts his head to the side.]
Well, I guess it doesn't matter.
no subject
[ magician is a title he hates, but loki isn't ruled by his emotions. he lets the ignorance slide because it suits his purposes. ]
no subject
[Simon seems fairly nonchalant for... A human boy. To be fair, as long as he isn't getting murdered, he's kind of okay with this. This tall, pale dude is company, which the second-in-command of the Apex longs for.]
Should I have used the term, "warlock," or somethin'?
I bet you can do all sorts of neat-o tricks and stuff.
[s i m o n...]
Can you just snap your fingers and make your bed, because... Wow. That sure sounds nice.
no subject
Warlock is suitable, I suppose. The term isn't all that important. As for snapping my fingers to make my bed . . . yes, but I would consider that wasteful.
[ says the man who would use magic to conjure himself infinite number of fancy clothes but d e t a i l s ]
no subject
[Wasteful? That would imply that the use of magic was taxing, or that somehow, the supply wasn't infinite. Simon doesn't have enough context to judge however- It's likely that it's a principle thing, too.]
You said you wanted answers just a moment ago. So...
I guess the rational thing would be to try and connect the dots? Were you at the party, by any chance?
no subject
Did you notice something?
no subject
[Simon is quiet for a brief moment in time.]
For the mask to come off, you had to tell somebody a secret. Somethin' private, personal...
[His light brows furrow.]
The kinda thing you'd never wanna say out loud. And the spell, with the skulls on the beach, it... Wanted us to talk, too.
no subject
Yes. They're trying to get us to confess our sins.
no subject
[Here, he avoids eye contact.]
When people talk or experience awful things together... It's like a bond.
[An incredibly traumatic one, but unfortunately, it's all Simon knows. Without thinking, his own hand hovers over his heart.]
The worse you both feel, the stronger it gets. Y'know, provided that uh, you're both there for each other. Through thick n' thin.
[Oh. Now he's beginning to feel sad.]
They're probably tryin' to get us to work as a team.
no subject
That is an interesting theory. But a team for what purpose?
no subject
[Simon rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.]
Well, this is supposed to be a journey, right? Whatever that means.
[A sigh.]
And, any journey's easier with a crew. There's more people, so less work for each individual, and then...
Since you're not worryin' your head off about every little thing you... Don't burn yourself out. And, if everybody does their job, neither do the others.
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im CRYING ALKSDJF ASKDFJ
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