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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bookerlesigh: (pensive)

The Play

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-05-03 04:32 am (UTC)(link)

There's only the two of them here, and Booker's more than happy to take a seat far across the row from his. The grandeur of the theatre is undeniable, luscious and splendid in a way that immediately takes his mind to the French Revolution. Decadence such as this was in stark contrast to the horrors he has a feeling exist just under the surface here. Though they may not be they horrors of the common plights he's used to - everything here has an air of strangeness to it, and that's only exemplified by the horns he can see his companion sporting.

His assumption is that they are decorative, a headpiece of some sort but... he's resigned enough to the oddness of this place to not entirely dismiss the idea that they may be real outright.

At her words though, he has no choice but to abandon his efforts to stay as still and nondescript as possible. He straightens up in the seat, glances around to confirm ( needlessly ), that she must be speaking to him. "Trapped?"

There were more ways out of a building than just through the door, if it was locked.

medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟒𝟕)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-04 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
"I believe so." Maleficent lifts her hands, letting her palms hover just an inch or two from the doors, as though testing them for something. Her own magic has been affected ever since she was brought on this little "redemption quest" by the Powers That Be. She is not certain what rules this particular fortress may hold, what backlash may be faced if she starts trying to blow the place up.

....Though she's tempted.

The dark fey turns back to her sole companion in what has now become a prison, taking him in with a suspicious eye, large wings slowly shifting behind herself. Why is he the only one in here with her? Why did the curtain draw back as soon as they were both here? She doesn't like it, and she's not sure of him, lifting her chin as she stares down the row to where he's seated.

"Are you a native of this place, or a Traveler?" She's just going to outright ask, eyes fixed on his mouth to watch for signs of lying.
bookerlesigh: (Default)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-05-09 09:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Then again, why fake the horns when you've already got wings? He might feel like he was in danger, if there was any danger of him perishing. As it is, she doesn't seem aggressive in the least, at least not yet. Her responses are sensible, and Booker glances around the space - if there's no way to get up the mezzanine, there may be a way up to the lighting grid on the stage, and from there was bound to be a door to the rooftop.

"Traveler," he answers easily, his attention distracted by peering up into the rafters. "You?"

He figures she's the same, but after the temple he'd been in... well, maybe she want's. Maybe she's hear to test him, somehow, and he stands to face her, leaning back against the row of seats behind him.
medeiun: ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴛɪsᴛs (✦ — 𝟎𝟐𝟎)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-19 08:12 pm (UTC)(link)
His response comes easily — perhaps suggesting it's honest, not having to be thought about at all. Or perhaps he's rehearsed it. Maleficent borders on far too suspicious most days, but living such a way is a necessity. Trust no one, especially here, where she does not know the rules of this strange land or what this man might be capable of. He seems human on the surface, but she knows better than that. He might be something else beneath.

"The same," she answers, words cool to the touch, calm. But she keeps her eyes on him for a long moment, following his movements as he stands, leaning back and casting his gaze to her.

"It seems the powers keeping us here delight in forcing us to play their little games." Maleficent's eyes finally cut to the stage, and she lifts her sharp brows at the mask set out there on the table. "I wonder what should happen if we were to refuse."
bookerlesigh: (Default)

[personal profile] bookerlesigh 2021-05-21 03:26 am (UTC)(link)

About this, Booker is transparent about. They are either on the same side or they're not, and he might as well establish that from the get-go. The rest of himself and his life? Those details he won't give so easily.

Two travelers, stuck in a theatre. That was the start of a story there.

"Something terrible, most likely," he muses dryly, and he glances at her wings, casts his gaze upwards. "Or we can try getting out up there."

medeiun: ɪᴍᴀᴋᴇʀᴘɪᴄᴏɴs (pic#14876263)

[personal profile] medeiun 2021-05-27 04:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Something terrible — she can't help but agree, even if silently. Whether they'll be punished now or later for refusing to play along, it seems inevitable there will be some sort of consequence. There's the matter of the bracelets after all; her own is hidden beneath her long sleeve, its glow being orange.

She quirks both brows at that, staring at the man before slowly following his gaze upwards. Getting out... from above? She can fly, certainly, but she's unfamiliar with the structure of building such as this, and simply assumed it would be sealed all the way around. ....Could there be another door to this cage?

"You believe there could be an exit up there?"