polylogs | Destination: Carcosa

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!

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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?"

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.

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.

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."

Her guide. It isn't a foreign concept for Maleficent; in fact, it is quite familiar. She has relied on a guide for a long time now — a raven who became her companion, back home. One who had acted as her wings back when she was without them for sixteen long years, but even after she regained what stolen from her, Diaval continued to serve as a medium between Maleficent and human affairs.

And she finds herself relieved by the offer, for it will allow her to maintain the certain detachment that she needs, from these human things.

"I shall rely on your experience, then." She's still awkward with this, with conversing even with someone she feels more at ease around than the others; Maleficent struggles with conveying how she feels. But she does mean this; it's an offer she's pleased by. The offer further extends to him sampling some of the drink for her, and the fey looks at him for a long moment, surprised by it. Is it truly generosity? Perhaps he wishes to stay in her good favour as well; their budding alliance in this place would be beneficial to them both. Still, she isn't used to such an offer, but if he cannot be affected by poisons....

"All right. Though if there are indeed some hidden magics to them that our senses cannot detect, they may affect you."

Though she's agreeing to his offer, this is a means for her to warn him, because she has known dark magic very well, and there may be dangers beyond poison.

He'd been much more solitary in his time. No matter what he said or did, he couldn't rid himself of the Romani family that had bound themselves to him generations ago, but he did his best not to press on that familiarity too often. Elsewise, he kept to himself. It wasn't wise to draw the world's attention to the fact that monsters were real.

If she needs a buffer between herself and those here, he's obliged to offer himself as such. She intrigues him, and it's nice to have a sense of another that doesn't find him so terrifying. That he's more human than she and has a better understanding of their hosts so far, or at least those in this area, just makes it easier to offer that assistance. Her warning is heeded, and he dips his head in understanding. "It was a drink that made me what I am today, Lady. I'm very aware that there's more than what the eye can see. But if there's a trap laid in something so innocuous as a drink, then my body is likely to handle it better. And if not, I would leave you to avenge whatever attempt is made on your being and mine."

It was a compliment, of course. She was a fearsome thing, predatory and wickedly delightful. He thought her more than capable of taking care of herself, and extended that to avenging any harm come to him if it was through magical means. She certainly was better equipped for it. He could and would fight with hand, claw, and fang. She had magic that seeped from her pores. Of the two of them, he expected her to make a bigger bang.

Maleficent gazes a bit more intensely at him — her eyes widening just ever-so-slightly; it's almost a hidden thing, an invisible little gesture of her surprise. No one has ever offered to compromise their safety for hers; Diaval is certainly loyal enough, and he has proven he would die alongside of her if he must, but someone being so willing to perish in her place, to leave her to avenge them... it is new. Of course, he is clearly something very strong, and used to immortality; perhaps it is true that he's simply so powerful such a thing could not harm him. But if it did.....

The fey stares for a moment longer, almost as though uncertain. But then she slowly dips her own head a little again, red mouth pursing thoughtfully. "Very well. No wonder you wear the likeness of a dragon, tonight." She means this as a compliment of her own — whether it's bravery or true courtesy or for another reason, the man is not easily deterred from a potentially deadly scenario. Of course, as he'd said, he has plenty of experience with strange drinks. What is daunting for her may not be so for him.

But if he is harmed, she will certainly be unleashing the wrath of her own dragons.

So Maleficent moves with him that way, towards the bar, gazing around at the wall of drinks lined up and sparkling, the brilliant human concoctions. She can smell them; they're very potent. The fey lifts a slender hand, gesturing slowly around; it should be his decision which one to sample. "Do you have a preference?"

Her surprise was visible to him in the widening of her eyes and the way her body reacted to it that he could hear and smell. It made him a little sad, to be true, that such a being didn't have those around her willing to lay themselves down at her feet for her pleasure. He imagined her in his world, just standing as she was, and he couldn't imagine men and women alike not being in awe of her. Oh, there'd be those who feared her as well, but there were those that feared everything that was different than they. Perhaps it was because he was mostly human, she seemed not to have too fond a relationship to them. In that, he couldn't blame her either. Her compliment, for that's what it was, had him laughing, flashing teeth that had been called fangs long before he'd gained true fangs of his own. "You flatter me, Lady. But as I'm merely a male, my ego thanks you for it."

She seemed to accept his offer, and they went over to where the drinks were. He could smell the sting of them as well, perusing the options and looking back at her with a musing look. "My preference is not important here, Lady. But I have tried nearly all of what lays available here, so let's see if I might come up with something that's to your taste, mm? Wine is too obvious, though I'm certain you'd enjoy it. How about... ah." He reached for a reddish drink, lifting it to his nose to sniff lightly to make sure it was what he thought it was. A small sip, a pause, just to see for her sake if there was anything questionable in it beside the alcohol itself. "I think you'll like this."

She does recall that he'd told her he fed from the blood of the living, and she wonders how he might obtain such a thing in his own world, much less here. It's a question she means to ask him soon, but for now — she watches him gaze upon the options, her eyes flicking to the various spirits there, inhaling the scent of them.

When he selects one for her and takes that initial sip, Maleficent draws in a slow breath, waiting — of course, there's the possibility that some dark curse might take awhile to affect him, but given that he is not human... she thinks he'd at least feel something, if the drink were altered in some strange way. But it doesn't appear to be; his sharp senses don't perceive anything peculiar, and after a moment she reaches out her hand to take the drink from him, long fingers curling around its stem.

"Red, though not quite as red as blood," she remarks almost with a faint humour — an allusion to that drink preference of his. Slowly, Maleficent draws it to her mouth, letting the rim of the glass rest there upon her lips for a moment before she tilts it back, takes a little sip.

"There is fruit. And...I suppose this more pungent taste is the alcohol." It isn't unenjoyable, simply new, and she lets it sit upon her tongue for a long moment before she swallows quietly, and chances another sip of the drink.

"It is pleasing. I can see why humans would indulge in it."

He'd been looking through the drinks with an eye for her preference. Those lips looked painted on, but he couldn't smell any cosmetics from her. Only that scent of wild nature and magic, the scent of feathers adding to that hint of wild. He realized his choice paired with his own proclivities after she mentioned it, and he smiled a little wider at that. Well, yes indeed. It seemed they had a few things in common. "I'm glad you approve. If you see something you like and wish to try, let me know. This is but a humble attempt to suit your taste and allow us to better mingle in this gathering."

Said with a hint of a smile, because he had a fair idea that Maleficent didn't 'mingle' very well. She certainly couldn't blend, but it was no fault of hers that her appearance was so very striking and stood out so much. She was what she was, after all, much as he was. "Humans indulge in a great many things. Not all of it is entirely necessary. But... while we're here, we may as well pretend we fit in, mm?"

"Mingling" is certainly not her forte, and she indulges a slight amused smile of her own behind the edge of the glass before she finally lowers it, letting its distinctive taste rest within her senses. She knows of what human spirits can do — turning them into bumbling fools. Certainly it won't affect her in that way, but she will take it slowly regardless.

"I suppose fitting in would serve us well, for now," she agrees. As much as the pair of them possibly can. He may not boast a giant pair of wings, but Vlad is hardly a common man, himself. His presence is quiet, dark — shadowlike, she finds, but not in a manner that would be easily forgotten. She thinks he could easily frighten a human simply if he looked at them a certain way.

"Do drinks like this sustain you at all? Or will you need to procure blood here?" She wonders, quietly. Perhaps he can survive still on other things, or perhaps his curse limits him to that warm liquid of life alone.

As much as either of them could fit in, but he had a feeling she'd stand out more. Even without the wings or horns, she was a magnificent being, and there was something about her that drew the eye. Confidence was like that; enticing and entrancing. Her looks only added to it. And she was smart not to imbue too freely of the spirits. He'd seen too many people use the numbing effect to bury themselves and their problems. It never ended well. She was too smart to fall for that.

The question deserved an answer, and he sorted through the best way to reply. "I have a need, yes, but so far, the temple has seen fit to provide me with... supplements. Much like I'd gather back home. Sachets, of a sort. I'm not certain how long that generosity will last, but I've had centuries to learn to make do with the cravings. I promise you, Lady, you're in no danger in my company, if that thought happened to cross your mind. I can eat and drink minimally, but no. It does not sustain. I suppose it wouldn't be much of a curse if I could find ways around it." The smile he gave her was sad, but he'd known what he was shouldering when he'd agreed to his wife's sacrifice.

But that brought a question to his mind. "What of you, Maleficent? Do you have, ah, requirements for your health? Certain foods? Weather? Needing to be close to nature?" A creature so tied to the ground she walked on certainly had ties to more than just magic.

Cravings? How interesting. So not only is he condemned to feast on blood, but he does actively crave it... most likely enjoys it, even. Maleficent's eyes seem to flash with curiosity, the inhuman glow of them brightening; she is in no way frightened of him, simply intrigued further. What she'd witnessed of his abilities — how his form itself could shatter into countless living beings all working as one — had enthralled her. Humans might see him more as beast than man. And she has always enjoyed the company of beasts more than mankind.

"If blood is what your tongue desires, feel free to indulge in it tonight, rather than these human drinks." Her eyes glitter further, almost sparkling. Perhaps he doesn't have any of those sachets with him tonight, but if he does...? "I am not afraid of your curse."

"Truthfully, I am not altogether certain," she admits then, tapping a long nail against her glass thoughtfully. "I was orphaned as a girl, and lived away from my kind. I have only recently learned what I am." Mere weeks ago, really. She learned of the Dark Fey's existence, and her own role within them. Yet she still feels like an outsider amongst them.

"I have lived my whole life in nature's embrace, however. My magic stems from my connection with it. If I were to be separated from the earth for long... perhaps I would indeed be weakened." She doesn't know for sure. Even here in this gilded city, she finds ways to remain connected to the earth.

He did indeed. There'd been shame in it at first. Shame and guilt. But that had faded quickly enough. He'd done his best to limit himself to those that the world would not miss when he had to feast. Afterwards, thanks to the miracle and wonders of science, he could buy arrangements with blood banks. Time and money offered him a world of anonymity, and he took advantage of that. There were still the odd nights he went out and found himself someone who seemed to be asking for punishment for their crimes. Vlad was happy to be the judge in that case.

Her permission makes him smile, and he gives her a brief nod of his head in gratitude. "I fed before I came. I've found that imbibing in anything that's... askew from their own tastes only draws unwanted attention and questions I don't generally wish to answer strangers." Wrapped up in that answer was the fact that he didn't consider her in a group that consisted of strangers. They may not yet be bosom buddies or allies, but they were closer to acquaintances than strangers. He certainly had no ill will towards her.

Still, she spoke and he had a moment to feel... not so much pity for a creature that didn't seem as if she'd enjoy that emotion, but something brittle at the idea of the child she was being left on her own. The urges of the father and the lord battled to want to go back and give a younger version of her shelter- but it would be unwanted, so he tamped that down. Clearly, she'd done well enough on her own. She spoke of her magic and he nodded slowly in thought, looking around them. "I suppose nature exists on any land with life. Ties that bind, so to speak. Many schools of thoughts in my world, religions and philosophies, speak of the connection between every living creature. From seed to flower to food for those that eat plant life, to those that eat those creatures, and then back to soil which feeds on the life lost to it. One giant circle of life. Everything is necessary to the existence of the whole."

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Destination: Carcosa

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