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

motiontostrike: (pic#14255263)

masquerade

[personal profile] motiontostrike 2021-05-03 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
If not for the fact that he's yet to locate the magical strap to loosen his own elaborate costume, Matt might find something homey about this getup. The clothing is a little more reminiscent of something he might find in his brother's wardrobe: a peach and yellow striped shirt beneath a white waistcoat and matching set of trousers. The mask, though, is almost too on point. The gold filigree twists up the sides of his head and into the illusion of small horns, but the eyes are completely covered.

At least it leaves him free to drink. He's carrying around a snifter of amber-colored liquid and deftly positioning himself away from the brassy band and their swinging tunes. "You're stuck too, I take it?"
quire: (apathetic)

[personal profile] quire 2021-05-04 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
The only thing worse than not being able to drink through the damn thing is knowing that no one can see the incredibly intense cuteye he throws their way.

"No, I just hang around open bars for the ambience," he sulks. "What have you got to complain Goldfinger? At least yours leaves room to have a drink."
motiontostrike: (pic#14255268)

[personal profile] motiontostrike 2021-05-04 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
"Hey, who am I to judge?" Matt responds as if he's terminally incapable of recognizing sarcasm. He doesn't admit that he's heard stranger things in his time. Hell, he's been known to do exactly that. It's always proven a good source of information. If there's one thing all of them seem to sorely need right now, it's some line on exactly what they've gotten themselves into.

He's happy to continue the ignorant ruse by sipping his cocktail. Matt even adds a faint "mmm" for dramatic effect, to really drive home the innocent ruse. "You're right. Why would I complain about something grafted onto my face, as long as I can drink to forget it? You don't seem to be lacking any oxygen, it seems."
quire: (pout)

[personal profile] quire 2021-05-04 05:25 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nobody," Quentin punctuates the point unnecessarily but it seems a good chance to rub it in.

"Yah, wow you must be a doctor," he grumbles. "Do you have any idea how these things come off or are you just here to gloat about your gin and tonic?"
motiontostrike: (pic#14407467)

[personal profile] motiontostrike 2021-05-23 08:45 pm (UTC)(link)
"Nobody," Matt echoes. He takes the time to raise his glass as if toasting the very notion. For a moment, he can be glad of the anonymity. Maybe it complicates things in the long run. This would all be a lot easier to get the hang of if he had any sense that it was designed as an elaborate ruse to trap him specifically. But he's been looking for the seams of this illusion since he's arrived, and so far he hasn't even found a thread to tug.

"I'm afraid I'm just as stuck as you are. I could get you a straw? Or maybe you could tell me if you see anyone out there who doesn't seem to be caught in our current predicament."
quire: (bitching)

[personal profile] quire 2021-05-24 04:04 am (UTC)(link)
"Hmm... Yeah there's a few. Hey! You! Yeah, you! Jay Gatsby. Why no mask? What'd you do about this thing? Don't shrug at me! Yeah... ask about straws would you..."

It's easy to say his manner of extracting information might need a little work, But when he could have just reached into someone's head and pulled out what he needed maybe this version of Quinten is some kind of improvement.