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!


Network · Logs · OOC · Memes · Plurk

vladpire: (Cup - 1)

Vlad Tepes III | Dracula Untold | OTA (Will match prose/brackets)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-02 12:10 am (UTC)(link)

i: The Temple/City

He arrived in the temple and once he ascertained that he could claim sustenance for himself that wouldn't come straight from the source, so to speak, he loaded his satchel up with little packets of plasma- or what he could only assume was the equivalent, since a sampling from one tasted like what he was used to blood tasting like. He fed himself because not doing so just strained his control unnecessarily. He could go long periods without a feeding, but in a new situation with no idea of what he could expect to experience, it seemed wise to be at his best and without adding strain he didn't need.

He can be found either inside the High Temple loading up on things, or out in the city, trying to gauge what the heartbeat of this particular one held. Every city had a mood, a theme, a way that it flowed. There was always an area darker than others, a place where violence breathed. He found himself wandering the streets, wanting to find the layout of this particular body of people. This one, being near the sea, made it smell like salt and brine and wood and fish.

Perhaps you recognize him from before, or maybe you notice the scrywatch on his wrist, marking him as a Traveler. Or maybe you do something to draw his attention.

ii: The Masquerade

Happenstance has landed him in the middle of a masquerade party. It had been ages since he'd been to one, but in an odd moment of lapsed time, he found himself wearing a mask. After a few attempts to remove it, he found himself resigned to it until the way to take it off revealed itself. He kept a weather eye out for anyone wearing one removing it, trying to find the secret to doing so. He was also somewhat curious about the sigil he found on himself, and that others also seemed to be wearing. Vlad wasn't entirely satisfied with the answer of 'It's a secret'.

But while he was there, he supposed he should try to enjoy it a little. Just a little. The music wasn't horrible, and the laughter that moved through the party like an audible wave drew his attention. He could perhaps be talked into a dance, or maybe drawn into a conversation.

iii: Lost Carcosa

He finds the jeweled skull, the scent of spices and herbs around the body making him wonder if this place has the same burial rites as some cultures in his homeworld do. Most of those practices were outdated in his current time, but washing the body in spices wasn't a foreign practice.

As he sat himself down, drawn by the grinning skull into a sense of something other, he found himself thinking of those lost things. His youth. His safety. His wife. Son. People. His soul... It bubbled up in his chest, rising up until it was something he could taste in the back of this throat, thick on his tongue as the need to speak rose in him. "I miss her the most," comes quietly from him, his head bowed down.

iv: Wildcard

(Vlad can be found in most scenarios available, or via scrywatch for anyone who wants to call to him from cr started on the TDM. Please feel free to PM or PP if there's something specific you'd like to have set up, or just go nuts and start something.)
sketchbookings: (086)

ii: the masquerade

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-02 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
While Benedict's spent plenty of time trying to avoid parties, he finds himself feeling something like relief when the masquerade presents itself. The manner of dress might be a bit strange, but a well fitting suit is a well fitting suit, and the whole mood of the thing is steeped in familiarity.

Benedict's certainly not going to pass it up.

Besides, a party is a good place to meet people, and he very much wants friends - or at least acquaintances - as he moves forward in this odd place. He flashes a smile to a man that's moving nearby.

"That's quite the mask," he says, referring to the dragon design. "It rather puts mine to shame, I should think."
vladpire: (Amused - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-02 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
The voice draws his attention, and even with the mask on, it should be clear that Vlad offers Benedict a smile. A dip of a nod in return, and he glances over the mask the other man wears. "There's nothing to be ashamed of in the lines of simple elegance, sir." Simple, clean, but striking nonetheless.

He lifts a hand to his own in a gesture. "I hardly made the choice, but I'm told it suits." With 'Son of the Dragon' as one of his many titles, it did, indeed, suit. His late wife would have found it amusing, more so the expression he wore under it that spoke of his thoughts on the matter. Balls could be silly things. This one was silly, but perhaps not such a waste of time, if he could glean a few things that could help him figure what was expected of them here. "I am Vlad Tepes, newly arrived. And yourself?"
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-03 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
Benedict supposes the mask is fitting for him. Where he at a masquerade back home, he'd have opted for a simple black one, not really the sort to go in for something lavish. But he thinks his mother would approve of this, something a bit more befitting of the son of a Viscount, even if he's only a second son.

"Benedict Bridgerton. I'm newly arrived as well. It's not a terrible welcome to a place, all things considered, though I can't say I'm fond of the way these masks seem impossible to remove."
vladpire: (Profile - Smile 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-03 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
"Pardon my taking a slight amount of relief in knowing that it's not just myself having that issue. I don't suppose you've come across the method of solving that?" The party was, as Benedict said, not so terrible. It was better than the... rowdier welcome at the castle he'd come across earlier. More covering, less lewdness. Oh, there were covert glances and couples scurrying off to dark places, but they weren't well hidden from his vision or senses. Vlad saw far more than sometimes he wanted.
sketchbookings: (Default)

[personal profile] sketchbookings 2021-05-06 02:16 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm afraid I haven't."

He does find a small comfort in knowing that there is some way the masks come off, because there must be.

"Perhaps they'll all release upon midnight." That's when the unmasking traditionally happens, after all, so maybe they just have to suffer through it for a couple of hours.
vladpire: (Smile - 3)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-06 08:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Perhaps." Not that the notion settled him any. Magic with a purpose was still magic, and steeped as he was in his own superstition and faith, Vlad found it suspicious.

Dwelling on it would do him no good, nor his current companion. So perhaps it was best to get to know more of those who'd been displaced as he was. "So, Mr. Bridgerton, I'm curious to know where you're from and if it's a place I might find familiar."

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medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

ii: The Masquerade

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-02 06:00 pm (UTC)(link)
The laughter and music make Maleficent nervous, like a forewarning of something dark to come. (Relax and enjoy a party? The Mistress of Evil? Could it be possible? Most likely not.) Even on the ground she is like a bird of prey more than a woman, something tall and sweeping and sharp.

The dress is reminiscent of what the humans around her are wearing (a tacky little thing, she thinks, with its tassels hanging down. At least the Powers That Be had the sense to make it black for her). Her long hair and great horns are wrapped up in a headpiece, and her mask is a concoction of lacy swirls and raven feathers. With her own large wings held behind her, Maleficent certainly stands out, though perhaps they might be mistaken as further decoration for this whole.... masquerade.

It takes her a moment to recognise the man she had met under the moonlight: the man of many titles and many years, the man who could shatter into countless winged things. When she does, Maleficent's dark lips twitch and she moves to him, silent and smooth, one masked thing approaching another.

"A dragon," she remarks by way of greeting, lifting a gloved hand between them, fingers gesturing upwards to the steely mask upon his face. Something that may almost be fond curves her mouth; she has relied on dragons of her own. But she remembers one of the titles he'd shared with her — son of the dragon. This place indeed knows what adornments to give them. "It suits you."
vladpire: (Smile - 5)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-02 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
He saw her through the bodies that milled and danced and laughed in merriment all around them. It was hard to miss one such as her, and he'd found her previous presence almost soothing. Something akin to like calling to like. He'd liked her hair loose before; it spoke more to that wild nature that he could scent in the blood that thrummed through her veins, but there was a regalness to the new look. Something that spoke more than the flare of magic in her eyes that this thing, this thing would be deadly to the touch.

Her lips are a flare of red to match the ruby in his mask as she smiles and makes her way closer. He meets it with a pleased expression of his own. "Not nearly so much as yours suits you, Lady. I'd be remiss in not saying that you look delightfully dangerous." Other ladies, other females that were merely human might take that the wrong way. He rather hoped Maleficent took it in the spirit it was meant; honest respect and admiration.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (Default)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-03 04:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Her mouth parts, revealing a true smile — indeed, coming from him, it is taken as compliment. "Delightfully dangerous. I quite like the sound of that."

She does; there is a certain pride in being dangerous; it is something she has used as a means of control and power over the scrambling humans that encountered her in the past. It does not hurt her heart in any way to be seen as a source of terror from them; she enjoyed it. The quake of a man's knees as he faced her, the way his fingers trembled with whatever crafted weapon was held in his hands. Sometimes they dropped their weapons, when they came across her, saw her. She enjoyed that.

Tonight there are no screaming humans running from Maleficent, but it is nice to hear that she looks dangerous all the same, and she lets Vlad see the pleasure in her smile. "Are you managing to enjoy yourself at this little social gathering we have been so compelled to attend?"
vladpire: (Look - 4)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-04 03:34 am (UTC)(link)
Her smile widens his own when he sees she takes genuine pleasure in the compliment. Vlad gives her a tip of his head, that light nod that was almost a bow between them. "Compared to some other gatherings I've been... compelled to be a part of, this is the lesser of those evils, I would say." Maleficent likely wouldn't find it shocking to learn of his ill treatment as a child by the men who'd been his masters. Humans didn't seem to be something she was overly fond of. Vlad himself was more... particular in who he attended. Powerful creatures had to be mindful of the weaknesses that emotions brought with them, and they were both powerful creatures.

"Would you like something to drink? I smell wine and other spirits if you've a taste for them." As the gentlemen he rarely got to be, he didn't mind offering to hunt down something for her.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (pic#14784891)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-06 04:40 pm (UTC)(link)
The slight gesture is returned with a tip of her own head: a sign of her respect, once more reflected back to the vampire. His remark earns a lift of an eyebrow; whatever he alludes to sounds.... unpleasant, and once again she is wondering just what sorts of evils he has been witness to in his long years.

"I must admit, my own experience with such matters is lacking." She casts an eye around the room, taking in the chattering attendees, the sweeping movement of dancing bodies, the pitch of laughter. Turning her head back to him, she gives a more quiet smile. "I am quite out of my element, here."

And so his offer of something to drink is met with a thoughtful pause. "Do they smell... safe, to you?" Her own senses are sharp, but fae abilities can be thwarted. Perhaps his senses can detect something hers cannot, and she frowns softly; Maleficent is... hesitant to drink what is offered here. Suspicious.
vladpire: (Amused - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-06 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
He has been witness and cause to much evil. He has been the nightmare that's haunted thousands. He, like her, has caused grown men to fear the dark, fear the quiet. He, like her, is other, and has suffered at the hands of men for it.

"Then allow me the honor of being your guide for the evening, as long as you wish to stay in the midst of things. This may not be my element as much as the night is, but I've attended balls and galas before; enough to know my way around a gathering such as this."

She seems suspicious, but not of him, and he finds that perhaps the most amusing part of all. He, Vlad the Impaler, vampire of legend, feared by the people he ruled lovingly over as soon as they saw what he'd become for them, he caused no fear in this magnificent beauty. She was more suspicious of the laughing couple to their left than she was of him, and he found a pleasure in that. He hadn't been trusted in a very long time. Hadn't been close enough to someone to earn it. It was a welcome balm to an old wound. "They smell of nothing more than spirits and wine, but I will happily test a sip of anything you're concerned about beforehand. Poisons have no effect on me, as I am already a thing so close to death."

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ungodlily: (Default)

iii

[personal profile] ungodlily 2021-05-03 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
The beach was a welcome respite from the hum of the golden city and the anxiety of being around so many people with such empty grins. She slipped off her well-worn boots and strolled along the shore, sand creeping between her toes only to be washed away as the waves came and went. She relished the quiet and the chill of the water.

In her own thoughts, she nearly missed Vlad where he sat but, upon spotting and recognizing him, she made her way toward him. When he spoke, his words quiet against the backdrop of waves, she crouched down in front of him on the balls of her feet, boots held in one hand. She noticed the skull and its strange grin but failed to recognize the feelings it pressed into her, "You can tell me about her if you want."

He listened to her with understanding when they first met; she's more than willing to offer that in return.
vladpire: (Sad - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-04 03:38 am (UTC)(link)
He'd heard her approaching in the back of his mind, but the pressing insistence of the skull had taken most of his attention. When she spoke, Vlad turned to Sharon with the glint of tears in his eyes. Pain from remembered pleasure and grief warred there, his smile bitter. "My wife. She was... a soft light in my life. She saw me. She loved me. Bore me a son. She gave her life to me, knowing what it meant. And I took it. I still don't know if it was entirely to save her the pain of dying slowly or to avenge her. All these years later, and I still can't tell."

A tear slid slowly down his face, the smile melting into something hollow.
ungodlily: (ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇs)

[personal profile] ungodlily 2021-05-05 06:54 pm (UTC)(link)
For his wife, his sorrow appeared to run as deep as his love and Sharon immediately recognized that gaze—that profound sense of loss and guilt that threatened him in ways she would never be able to understand—because it was the same one Chris always tried to hide from her. Her heart ached in her chest. She knew there was nothing she could say that would ease his pain; that's something he's carried for too long for her to help.

"...it doesn't have to be one or the other." Her hand twitched and she reached up to touch his cheek but seemed to suddenly reconsider, hand falling. Just because he reminded her of Chris didn't mean she could treat him like Chris, "but it doesn't matter why you did it. You did what you felt you had to. Needed to."
vladpire: (Puppy look - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-06 08:36 pm (UTC)(link)
He's quiet for a moment, breathing slowly to try to shove the pain back down where he'd kept it locked for so long. Sharon was right, of course. Feelings were complicated things. Creatures with their own ideas, almost. What he'd done could easily be covered by both truths. He knew the notion of teeling one truth to cover another better than anyone.

Her hand lifted towards him, and he felt a moment of surprise. Sharon hadn't come across to him as someone prone to physical signs of affection. It seemed proven when her hand withdrew before contact was made, and he gave her a small smile. "Knowing it, justifying it, doesn't stop it from hurting. It never has. Time dulls the edge of it a bit, so it's no longer something that cuts every time I breathe. But I'll always miss her. And I think I'd hate to forget that."
ungodlily: (Default)

[personal profile] ungodlily 2021-05-09 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"There are some things you can't forget, even if you wanted to because they're a part of you. She's a part of you." In more ways than one, if it was her life and blood that facilitated his change. It made sense he'd be still be torn over her, even after centuries, and even fear losing that. The raw emotion made Sharon uncomfortable and she dropped her gaze back down to the skull. She was never good with things like this. Then again, she's never had much experience with them, either.

"And even if you did forget, I think some things are etched onto our souls."

She knew some things lingered long after the memories have faded like childhood scars. She knew because she spent eighteen long years with no memories of her past and yet those years were spent haunted by a fear she couldn't even put to word.
vladpire: (Default)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-09 10:14 pm (UTC)(link)
It wasn't so much a smile as much as it was a look of appreciation. That she understood him and his pain enough to have a rather enlightened view on bearing it. Vlad nodded slowly, hearing her own pain in her answer and reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. "As they should be, Sharon. Our souls hold the most important things in ourselves, good or bad."

He had so very much bad on his, which is likely why he clung to the good so tightly. "I am grateful for your words, and your ear. It's... nice to be heard. To have someone willing to listen." To have feel he could speak of things long past and not have someone think him mad.

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nanban: (mild)

i, the city

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-04 08:53 am (UTC)(link)
Hawks isn't going anywhere in particular. He picks the kind of shady areas not because he's kind of shady himself (jury's out, really), but because he knows that's where the info comes from. He's not sure he can endear himself too well to the locals, but he has to try. That's the hero thing to do, isn't it? And while he's not sure he buys this whole redemption arc bullshit, he can't take a risk if the world is really in danger. He'd much prefer to just go along for the ride, but that's not really a thing. And the shady areas are where you can get things out of people who have less to lose, less to care about.

It's not a very fruitful attempt so far. Even if it weren't for the scrywatch, he stands out by virtue of being a guy with wings. These people look pretty standard, and Hawks just...doesn't. That's sometimes an advantage back home, even if all that gives him is a reputation. Here, it just means weird looks and a lack of trust. Well, fine. He can try another tactic.

Back towards the temple, he sees another man hanging out half in shadow as he travels. The glow of the device on his wrist marks him as a fellow Traveller. Hawks decides to try that track instead of relying on the locals.

He flaps his wings just enough to catch up, letting his feet touch the ground again a few feet away from Vlad.

"You know, you blend in a lot better than I do, but these wrists damn us to other-dom, huh?"
vladpire: (Profile - 3)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-04 12:30 pm (UTC)(link)
This wouldn't be the first being he'd met since arriving here that had large wings, but this one didn't have the same sense of 'otherness' that Maleficent had. She smelled of magic and nature. This one... he wasn't entirely sure. But he'd made the first move, and that was something. An introduction, of sorts. He could do no less. "I've found a knack to being able to fit in most places. All it usually takes is observing enough to know what to avoid doing. Though, I don't seem to have the same obstacles you face," Vlad stated, gesturing with his chin towards the other's back.

Vlad himself was adjusting to a few differences, one being that he couldn't quite feel the same tie to the weather he'd once held, but as he also wasn't feeling the same scorching burn from the sun either, he considered it a fair trade. "I daresay you'd have a harder time than I going unnoticed."
nanban: (bright)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-04 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
Hawks has never been shy, at least. He doesn't mind starting conversations with strangers. Besides, as a hero, he's not like Endeavor, always going it alone. He likes team ups because they're often easier. He doesn't have the brute strength of some heroes, and very few people can match his speed. He figures this whole ordeal will require teamwork, too, so getting to know the people stuck here is a good bet. Probably. And if that backfires, he'll deal with it.

He laughs good-naturedly at the wing thing. "Yeah, it's pretty hard to hide 'em unless I shed all my feathers for awhile. I like 'em where they are though." He doesn't elaborate on that. It's not really giving away a secret or weakness; it's pretty common knowledge where he's from that he can shed them. It's not necessarily common knowledge that they take a few days to grow back, but, why worry about it right now?

"Don't think the locals appreciate any of it too much, though. Were you on the last island? Those people really didn't seem to like any of us, wings or not."
vladpire: (Talking - 1)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-05 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
He'd been called a hero before- by his wife, son, people. He'd also been called a monster by most of the same. Only his wife and son had seen the man under the beast that had been made of him. He didn't despise the word, but it was hard to feel as if it fit him. With his time with the Turks, he'd been twisted into something monstrous long before he'd made a deal with a devil. 'Monster' fit him far better than 'Hero' ever did. That may be why orange glimmered in the depths of his wristband. Should it be yellow? Possibly. But he was his own worst critic, and he saw himself in a harsher light than perhaps others might.

Hawks seemed... affable. Relaxed. It had the corner of his mouth tipping up in a smile. "I was. I can hardly blame them. They didn't ask for our intrusion. They've likely been victim to whatever whims drew us here for long enough for fear to be ingrained." This from the man that had seen the same fear and suspicion on the faces of those along the trail of war. They always suffered the most, poor souls. "Better to leave them to their own and give them no cause to suffer more than they may have from other... visitors."
nanban: (Default)

[personal profile] nanban 2021-05-06 03:11 am (UTC)(link)
Hawks's own scrywatch is yellow (though it's mostly obscured by a sleeve). He's toed a line plenty of times, often because he had to in order to please the Commission, but he's still (basically) a hero. A double agent and a liar, which he hates about himself, but certainly not some irredeemable person. He's not sure he buys that whole redemption thing anyway, though. And he hasn't figured out the colour code yet anyway, but...well, whatever.

He tilts his head curiously at Vlad's assessment of the last place they'd been thrown at. His easygoing manner doesn't really change, though.

"Huh. You think these people on these islands have been doing this awhile? Makes sense. Wonder what makes us different from whoever came first. Probably not a whole damn lot to the residents of these islands."

It does make him wonder, though. Did the others fail somehow? His question is a real one. What is the difference, anyway?

"I didn't find anything super useful on the last one. Maybe we'll shed some light here we didn't there. Don't get me wrong. I don't buy any of that whole shtick about redemption. But it's like believing in fairies or something, right? Why take a chance just in case something is true." He waits for Vlad's opinion on that one.
vladpire: (Default)

[personal profile] vladpire 2021-05-06 08:46 pm (UTC)(link)
He took a moment to think through the questions. "I think that people who are often in the path of dangerous things have gained cause to find new visitors suspect. Those in the way of war and battles are often treated ill by no just cause other than they exist. It breeds a resentment that takes time to win over." He'd seen the haunted looks on faces of farmers and peasants following the path of destruction the Ottoman Empire left; picking at the remains of their spoils as their only means of survival. Those who lived close to an often used path in war grew hard. Bitter. Jaded. Wary of anyone that was new, because new was dangerous.

The last question, the one the winged man seemed to be waiting for an answer to had him giving a one-shouldered shrug to. "Redemption is something all those who've sinned should stride towards. At least attempting to do so means one has the potential to be redeemed. I've met men and monsters that see no ill in monstrous actions. No need for redemption, because they have no fault. It's always the ones that need it the most that fail to see it. Truth? The truth is what you have faith in. What lies in your own heart."

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