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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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medeiun: ᴍᴀʟᴀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ (pic#14830053)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-27 04:43 pm (UTC)(link)
"You aren't familiar with magic?" Maleficent studies him further at that outright clarification, tilting her head at that. His reaction from seeing her own display now further baffles her. Has he been kept from magic? Living amongst humans and not able to tap into what he is, what he can do? (Assuming he has magic, as she isn't certain what manner of creature he is. But he seems like something that would very much have magic running through its veins).

Perhaps he's been.... clipped, figuratively; she's so recently learned of experiments done to the fae folk back home. Perhaps someone got ahold of him, stifled his magic with a dark curse.

"Jazz Age. What an odd term." Jazz? The age of jazz? She isn't familiar with that either, giving a rare, almost comical expression of confusion for Maleficent. "No, this is.... quite different." While she isn't one to share much, she's prompted further by the nature of her present company alone: she'll offer some to him, the way she wouldn't to someone of human appearance.

"Where I am from.... Mankind has begun its progression into the Wood, stealing land from the fae to build structures, but none so... perfected as what can be found in this city. There are castles of stone and wood. Not... gold." This city is gilded in sleek angles and perfection, the likes of which Maleficent has never seen. "And the people do not dress this way." She looks down to her sequinned dress, her exposed legs.

"It seems the people of this Jazz Age are far more frivolous. Dancing about like buffoons."
nanban: (bright)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-06-07 03:03 am (UTC)(link)
He shakes his head. "Nah, magic isn't really something I know anything about." He shrugs, which ruffles his feathers a bit. He's not really bothered by not knowing magic, but internally he's thinking about the strangeness of this whole experience. Was it magic that brought them here? Maleficent uses magic the way Hawks uses his quirk (not the flying thing, but the other things he can do with his feathers, things he hasn't had reason to do here yet). It's second nature. Really, what's the difference between a quirk and magic? It might be semantic. And there's Vlad, who is an honest to god vampire or something? This place is a trip.

So her world sounds kind of...medieval? No tech, no real cities, all of that. He really can't imagine it. He's so grounded in his own time and experience. But then, aren't they all?

He laughs at her criticism of the party, though.

"You'd probably be real confused about my world. We have parties, too, but they're way cooler than this. Louder, though. More lights and stuff like that. But you know, the dress looks nice on you. Even if it's not what you'd pick for yourself."

She's strange, but he likes her, so why not drop that compliment?
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-06-15 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Are you at all familiar with the Fae?" She just bluntly asks; there are times to be tactful and times to just outright ask as to someone's identity. Again, she isn't... certain that's what he is; he doesn't have their scent, but... surely he must be something along those lines? Perhaps even a hybrid, of sorts? He lacks certain fae features, but the wings are what she grasps onto the most tightly, when attempting to categorise the young man.

"Your world sounds less and less delightful," she informs him with a little dry dose of sardonicism. Louder parties, brighter lights? Maleficent's mental image of such a place is hardly a desirable one. She's much more accustomed to the gloom.

Though his compliment makes her pause, not too used to such things. The kneejerk is typically to coldly balk from Being Perceived in such a way, to scorn him, but once again, he gets something of a pass due to having wings. An unfair bias, certainly, but it's hers and Maleficent has no concern for being fair.

So all he gets is a purse of the lips, and a little hum of thought. "I must say, I'd prefer more skulls, but they don't seem to be in style for this particular era."
nanban: (bright)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-06-17 05:53 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nope," he says with an apologetic smile. The truth, as usual, is more complicated. He's heard the word (or a similar one). He connects it with fairy, though that seems like a gross oversimplification. He wouldn't think "fairy" applied to the woman in front of him. But what he knows of fairies other than storybook crap is that they can be mean or tricky as well. People probably steer clear of them.

Yeah, so, that tracks. But he'd rather let her tell him her own side; bias from his own world won't serve him here. And she hates humans. He'd like to stay on her good side while he can.

"If you're not used to it, probably. I like my world. My country. My life."

Not always, but why harp on it?

"But I'm a product of my society, y'know? I like parties and loud shit and fighting villains. I mean, I want a world where heroes don't have to be running ragged all the time. That's the dream, to live your life the way you want without all those obligations. To me, your world sounds pretty stressful. And mean. Discriminatory. Being totally removed from our regular places in the world is...disconcerting." That's an understatement but it works for now.

He's not sure if she doesn't like compliments or isn't used to them. But he's always been the type to push buttons on purpose, so it's not like he's going to reassess and not do it again.

"Surely somewhere on this island is a nice skull we can grab for you," he says with a laugh. (He'll regret this comparison later when he encounters that freaky skull on the beach.)