polymods: (Default)
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!


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nanban: (abuh?)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-23 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
That is unexpected. Winds and storms? Hawks looks surprised about that revelation, and it's genuine. Of course, you can't always tell what someone can do looking at them. Hawks is obvious, though all the things he can do with his feathers are not as easy to figure out.

"That sounds like a hell of a thing to lose," he says. "I'm sorry I can't see it."

It sounds like Vlad has some sort of price to pay for his abilities, though.

"Your abilities aren't just something you're born with?" he asks. "How'd you get 'em?" He's nosy by nature, so he just asks. If Vlad won't answer, he can always move on to something else.
vladpire: (Default)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-24 11:40 am (UTC)(link)
A laugh, soft and almost bitter as he shakes his head. "Not at all. There are none where I come from who are... born into such devilry. Perhaps a hedgewitch or two, but no, my... gifts come from a curse. A deal made with a devil, one could say." He hadn't been the one to make the original deal, after all. Julius himself had, and for his part in agreeing to let evil come into his life, he'd been cursed to the cave until a set of wheels had been put into motion that had brought Vlad to him.

Even then, he'd have been able to hold out, if not for Mirena's tragedy and sacrifice. Perhaps it has been what was intended all along and he'd just been another pawn on the chessboard of dueling gods. Curious about what myths and legends were spread across a world that clearly was not his own, Vlad opted to answer plainly. "Have you any vampires in your land?"
nanban: (enhhhh)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-06-06 04:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Devilry. Hedgewitch. Vampire. Wow, this guy's world sounds like a bucket of laughs. Really, it does surprise Hawks. His expression doesn't change much, other than to raise one fluffy eyebrow. But internally he's going through all of that like what the hell. He wonders about the time period Vlad comes from, or if they're just from such different places entirely, the way Maleficent seems to be.

"I don't know anything about deals with devils, my man," he says. "But that sounds ill-informed. Or maybe just desperate." It's not an accusation; it's more probing statement.

Hawks is a lot sharper than he lets on. He's not the number two hero for his good looks, okay? Just because he lets people think he's dumb, or he's lazy, or whatever...none of those things are true. He can put that devil and vampire thing together. But he doesn't say it out loud.

"Vampires? Like...turns into bats, allergic to garlic, got a mad on for blood vampires?" He thinks for a moment, or rather, puts on a show of thinking. "I don't think so. I guess there might be someone with a quirk that sort of functions in a similar vein." Pun intended. "But nah, not like the stories say. Are they common where you're from, or just like some one off?"
vladpire: (Back - Cape 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-06-07 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
He wasn't wrong in that assessment. It had been a desperate choice. But one he'd made with his eyes wide open. A good leader was willing to sacrifice himself for the good of his people. He'd done what he thought was best. At least the Turks had regretted their decision to move on him and his son lived to rule in his stead. With the odds he'd gone up against, he couldn't hope for better.

"Bats, yes. Garlic... not so much." The blood part seemed obvious, and at least the man knew what a vampire was and he didn't have to walk him through it. He thought of the question, then sighed. "Not so common, I would think. Aside from myself and the one who made me, there may be a few stragglers still around." He could never be sure that he'd rid all of his people from the curse, if they'd all come for vengeance or if some had hied off on their own.