#Golconda

[gorbalsvampire]

on Golconda, Roads and Paths

Here's the thing about Golconda.

In the Dark Ages, it was understood that there was a Beast, and that many Roads led away from the Beast, and that at the end of every Road there was a state of being in which one was a paragon of one's virtues, as far from the Beast as any Cainite could ever be, and that state was called Golconda. A Paragon of the Road of Sin would look like a shame, a caution and a horror to a follower of the Road of Heaven or Kings, but their Beast would be mastered nonetheless.

Much that was once known was lost, in the War of Princes and the Inquisition and the Revolt and the rise of the Sabbat.

A Path is not a Road, built and tended with the authority of mind over soul. A Path is simply a route trodden by many, through a wilderness poorly understood by all.

The Sabbat is permanently struggling, and its Enlightenment begins with a breaking of the self and a submission to the Beast. Its Paths are framed by an eternal war that defines everything the sect thinks and does, against everything it can reach, against enemies vast and abstract. It is not interested in Golconda any more than it is capable of winning.

The Camarilla? They have maintained but one Road – Humanity – to the detriment of all the others. Theirs is the struggle between Beast and Man, and when a Kindred wishes to be neither, they fold their arms and say "nevertheless: choose, or be damned." The Camarilla does not believe in many things that happen to be true; it believes in you believing what you're told, and if you don't, well, you must be lost to the Beast already, mustn't you?

In the modern nights, Golconda is an accident. The Roads, well kept and maintained, are lost, and all that remains is to blunder along the Path and hope.

This is a very long winded way of saying "check out Dark Ages if you want to see what an authoritarian (Kings) or indulgent (Sin) or harmonious (Beasts) or pious (Heaven) relationship with the Beast looks like, all of those are forms of Golconda, same mechanical effects but very different behaviours to maintain them."

During the War of Princes, i.e. before the formation of the Camarilla, you have five major Roads and at least as many minor ones. None of them are presented as necessarily more important, more widely followed, or more "true" than the others. And, crucially, in the Revised era - that's Dark Ages Vampire, not Vampire: the Dark Ages - all of those Roads have an Aura attached. At a high Road rating, that is to say really living up to their personal ideals, a character radiates a palpable sense of something - authority, temptation, compassion - suggesting that they are approaching a different order of being.

After the formation of the Camarilla, on the other hand, you have Humanity presented as the default state of being for vampires. Their central moral struggle is to preserve their Humanity from the ravages of the Beast - there are very clear consequences for letting your Humanity drop, but the Aura corresponding to the Dark Ages' Via Humanitas is no longer present. Something has changed. Something about the way vampires work is not as it used to be.

Dark Ages was always a backformation - a prequel created after the core operations and tenets of Vampire were established. And those core operations and tenets have always included a sense of Humanity as "The Downward Spiral," of vampires as risking "degeneration" should they engage in behaviours presented by a "Hierarchy of Sins." The journey toward the Beast has always been more explicitly mapped out than any journey away from it. Spend XP to restore Humanity. You may reach Golconda, I guess.

This is fine, it's a solid bit of Gothic theming, core to the game, love it. Except... it doesn't gel with the Paths of Enlightenment, many of which are transhumanist in nature, and which - again, in Revised, this is where I came in - are built from a start of actively running down your Humanity and then adopting your Path and then needing to build your Path rating back up again, i.e. climbing a moral ladder away from the Beast. This doesn't really work when the Paths' morality is written, like Humanity, as a series of failure points - Sins by which you degenerate and risk the Beast. The Paths, as written, are a kind of square peg/round hole situation where you have to turn prohibitions into opportunities to progress. And there isn't as clear a mechanical reward or incentive for maintaining a high Path rating as there is for a high Road rating. No Auras here either.

So, what I arrived at, once I'd run my first successful Dark Ages Vampire game and had this distinction really brought to my attention, was a sense that vampire morality had changed between one side of the transformative events in the early modern period. And that's when I started thinking about what it meant that your characters in Dark Ages and Victorian Age occupied the same band of generations, and thought about how the Camarilla can get away with claiming there are no such things as Antediluvians when some of its founding figures have a personal memory of Antediluvians being actively involved in the War of Princes.

That's when I started taking the Inquisition seriously, as an effectively genocidal event that wiped out almost all playable vampire characters. Higher than sixth generation? Yeah, you probably didn't make it through the War and the Revolt and the Inquisition, and repopulation took a while, Tradition of Progeny and all that. The surviving elders are the ones who deliberately fabricated new social orders for vampirism - the aggressive, militant transhumanism of the Sabbat and the centralised "we hide amongst humans and Humanity is the best way to do that" principles of the Camarilla.

And that's how I arrive at my model of vampire morality.

[unteriors]

Route 146, Golconda, Illinois.

[pmamtraveller]

GOLCONDA (1953) by RENÉ MAGRITTE

The painting shows a group of men wearing black coats and wearing bowler hats. Behind them is an azure sky and a row of buildings with typical BELGIAN architecture.

He paints men as monolithic, as if they are the alter-egos of the painter or the typical bourgeois man of the 20th century. They are 2D and motionless, but they appear to be floating, falling from the heavens, or floating upwards. They are equally spaced and appear to be the same.

MAGRITTE’S work is characterized by ambiguity. These are images that challenge the conventional notion of reality by introducing surreal and irrational elements that we can intuitively understand.

MAGRITTE himself emphasized several times that it is not necessary to question the precise meaning of his works, which are often intended to create visual suggestions and give voice to the inexplicable, rather than to expressly communicate something.

One possible explanation for GOLCONDA can be found in the standardization of characters wearing bowler hats, a symbol of the standardization of modern society. Men, all dressed in the same way, are replicated like raindrops and projected their image through the shadows. The uniqueness of each person disappears.

MAGRITTE’S work can be interpreted as a critique of the isolating nature of contemporary metropolitan life and the anonymous nature of mass society. It can be seen as a metaphor for the loss of individuality that occurs when people become part of the mass consumerist culture and become isolated.

[dymdrimluga]

Golconda

This is a short story about a spiritual search, about the truth that only a ready mind can grasp, and about the self-sacrifice that only a sire can make for a child…

[return-of-the-unicorns]

Golconda is not a state of stasis. It grows as the vampire who has it learns. Being rigid is the enemy of understanding your beast.

Also, as always. Achieving Golconda does fucking NOTHING to help with any human bullshit your beast is probally masking.

[galejro]

Made this one during the 2020 Covid, there's a build up to it, but I'll post later, I am running out of drawings and I kinda didn't drew anything more... Ever since their embrace Lizzie knew her bite could kill with so much as a scratch, while Hania as a Tremere was... out of friends and disliked. Y'know it may be a dumb idea for the naive, but every night we can make a small Golconda for ourselves.

[lemuseum]

[esotericchorus]

Trying to reach Golconda, but also get your coterie to cooperate long enough not to die.

[uliversum]

René Magritte | Golconda | 1953

Jack London | Men in park | 1902

[baravaggio]

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure: Pose and Reference

1. Josuke Higashikata on Ultra Jump Issue #5 cover (Hirohiko Araki, 2020) 2. “Golconda” by René Magritte, 1953

[mxmoth]

Well obviously Juan/Frankie and #16....

#16 Trying to fulfill their wishes

The house had never been this full before, not even at the height of rodeo season when it was filled with cowboys trying to save a few bucks by avoiding the hotels. Among those presently in attendance were the Padre and a number of his flock, a scattered few missionaries from Charleston, honored guests from Starfall, and complete strangers who had simply heard of the meeting through whispers. Despite the size of the ranch, for one weekend every bed, sofa, and safe patch of floor had been claimed.

If that was the only thing pressing into the back of Frankie's skull, it would have been a hell of a lot easier to cope with, but that sharp spike of anxiety twisted and dug a little deeper yet. They had retreated to the kitchen, as far away from the noise of conversation as they could get while still technically being present. The edge of the counter dug into their palms, a tight knot of heat had begun to burn between their shoulderblades, and counting the dimples in the terracotta tiles just wasn't distracting their racing mind the way they wanted it to.

And yet, they managed to find themself distracted all the same.

The touch, gentle as it was, that fell against their shoulder gave them a start. A wave of hyper-vigilance roared through their body, only to ebb again when they saw who was on the other end of that touch. His smile alone could calm even the most ferocious beast, and theirs had been weak to it for almost two centuries.

"Mi vida," he said softly, his hand soothing down their arm, "you look troubled. Unburden yourself."

With anyone else, that would have been an astronomical request; but with him, it felt effortless. They released their iron grip on the countertop, watching the imprint fade from their palm in a breath, then wound their arm around his waist to curl the bulk of their body into his. They had to stoop to rest their cheek against his shoulder, but it was worth it for the way his arms wrapped around them, sheltering them, molding their forms together.

"Some of the best minds in our world," they started, a waver to their usually smooth drawl, "scientists, scholars, philosophers... all of them in my living room. And I feel woefully out-classed."

"Out-classed?" he repeated, pulling back a little to look at them. He reached up and took their jaw in both large hands, "Mi corderito, they're here because you called them here. I didn't do that, Padre didn't do that. You did."

They dragged their lower lip between their teeth and nodded, accepting his response even if they didn't fully understand it - they couldn't fully settle the knowledge within themself. But they trusted him and that was the only thing that had ever truly mattered. Everything else would eventually turn to ash, but the two of them had been born from the same star. If he said it was so, then it was so, regardless of their own fears.

With a soft sigh, they leaned in again and thumped their forehead against his shoulder. He chuckled and braced one arm around their shoulders again, fingers sliding up into the back of their hair, gripping softly, anchoring.

"It's a lot," they muttered.

"It's meant to be," he replied. "If it were easy, everyone would do it, and then it wouldn't mean anything. But you have to listen to that feeling..." he snaked a hand between their bodies and tapped his fingertips against their sternum, "the one right here. It's a gift that we can feel it at all. Now," he leaned back, kissed their forehead, and disentangled himself from their limbs. "I'm going to make you a drink and you're going to go talk to your guests. The sooner you charm their wisdom from them, the sooner they'll leave."

They couldn't help but smile at that, and the way a few simple moments with him could calm the raging storm within them. While he made his way to the cabinet to pull down a couple of glasses, they drew their hand through their hair and straightened the cuffs and lapels on their too-large flannel. Unlike most nights, Frankie wasn't armored in black-on-black, leather, and heavy makeup. Their face was bare save for a collection of delicate piercings, and they had clad themselves in well-worn jeans and one of Juan's old shirts. Barefoot, comfortable, in staunch opposition to the idea that they had to dress up or make a certain kind of impression in their own home. But the idea of going out and mingling with ages-old academics made them wonder if maybe they should have put in a bit more effort.

Wherever that thought was going, it was halted by the scent of tequila wafting across the span of the kitchen. A few seconds later, Juan was handing them a cut-crystal glass, sending them off with a symbolic show of humanity and a pat on the backside.

Much as they wanted to drag him along with them, they squared their shoulders and started out of the cool sanctuary, winding through the dining room and towards the living room where most of their guests had gathered. They had every intention of making their way over to a cluster of sofas on the far side of the space when a voice from just behind them stopped them in their tracks.

"A moment, child, if I may impose."

Frankie turned on their heel and looked around, seeing no one until they glanced down at an armchair just to their left. Looking back up at them was a face that Murnau himself couldn't have invented in his most unsettling nightmares. It should have taken them off-guard; it didn't.

"No imposition," they answered, lingering where they stood for a moment before settling down in the chair opposite him. The fireplace blazed in front of them both, casting his pale flesh in a golden light, lending warmth and gentleness to what might have ordinarily been horrific. "What can I do for you?"

He smiled, an uncanny expression on a Nosferatu, but one that Frankie found absolutely fascinating. "I suppose I should offer you an apology first, I arrived uninvited."

Frankie snorted, "I've always said the most interesting guests are the ones who ain't got an invitation."

"How like your progenitor," he offered. "I admit, when I heard that there was someone trying to make an open secret out of campfire tales, I was intrigued. And the more I heard, the more intrigued I became. I had to come and meet the Boogeyman myself."

They laughed. "I'm only the Boogeyman if you're a bull," they said, leaning back in their chair and balancing their glass on one denim-clad knee so as to not ruin the leather chair. "And I certainly didn't give myself the nickname."

"No," he hummed, "no... But there are a number of our kind who might echo it if they learned what you were doing here. Which is exactly why I support it." He paused briefly, letting his gaze linger on the flickering flames in front of them, slipping off to another world for just long enough that Frankie could bring their glass to their lips and wallow in the burn of alcohol. "I brought you a gift," he continued, gesturing vaguely with spindly sharp-nailed fingers towards the back hall. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of leaving it in your sire's office, but I thought you might find it interesting when you're finished with these clucking cultists and con men. No cost," he added, as though anticipating the question that may follow.

But Frankie merely replaced one inquiry with another. "Why?"

"I find it interesting," he shrugged. "I want to watch your progress. It's been decades since anyone has really tried to find their way to Golconda and you may just be closer than any of those other fools."

Their brows furrowed a little, and they brushed a lank curtain of hair away from their face. "How so?"

"Perhaps it's an unintended gift of your bloodline, of your embrace; perhaps it's been cultivated with some unwitting intent. I could only guess. But you possess a unique spark of humanity that evades so many others searching for the path."

His gaze shifted past them, over their shoulder, back in the direction they had come from. Frankie twisted and followed that line of sight, catching a glimpse of Juan leaning against the archway from the kitchen, watching them. That feeling of safety washed over them again and without having to ask for clarification, they simply understood.

[onegentlemansescapades]

52 Carat D Flawless Golconda Diamond earrings

[writinginnorthnorfolk]

Golconda

City gents without umbrellasfall from the sky like rain;I feel sorry for those fellas,bowler-hatted, dressed in grey, early for work in the morning,late home at the end of the day. Disenchanted gents are fallingpast suburban windows where their perfect wives are waiting,aprons on, scent behind ears, in their hands a glass of something,a peck on the cheek – cheers. Kim M. Russell, 19th March…

[dymdrimluga]

almost no one really knows what Golconda is. It is only known that you can go all the way to it and lose in the end. Maybe this is a very painful experience. It may be necessary to go through the realization of a painful past in order to be able to receive a brighter future. those who know are unlikely to want to tell

[return-of-the-unicorns]

☕ Golconda

Golconda

Golconda was hard to achieve. It remains unique for each person who seeks it. And depends on who they are, the path they follow. And so much more. It is, at the core of things, coming to something of an understanding with your beast.

Why is Golconda unique for each person. Each person's beast is unique. So each path must be. And it depends on how you view humanity, or however you chose to walk.

For some it is a logical conclusion that they come with to their beast. Letting the logical mind take over. I have only seen this happen once, and it was fascinating. The man was a complete monster, because one can use “logic” to justify anything.

Others let the beast be the one to take lead, and I too have seen the rare beast-Golconda. An moment where they fully accepted being a monster.

For me personally.

I travelled to the Incarna of each planet. And spoke with them, bartered and bargained. Helios, Swift Hermes, Aphorditie, Gaia, Rorg the broken one, Ares, Zeus himself, Oronus, and the council of Death and Life (What mortals call the dwarf planets and the Khyber belt).

Once they had taught me the Music of the Spheres, the Celestial song. I began to sing my beast to sleep.

I still needed a catalyst.

Being able to spare my Twin, and yet end his evil.. To redeem him. To avoid both allowing a demon worshiper to continue, and killing my twin. Both would have been sins that would have set me back.

Instead my Sentai and I, we worked a mass ritual that made him human again.

He, became vampire again once he died... And is sort of playing out his sentence on a far away planet.

Golconda is something to work towards yes. But not to be obsessive about it. The moment I stopped being obsessive about it, I found it easier to work towards.

Also, a hint. Make a list of positive things you can do, not just bans on your actions. Being adopted by Shifters and following their codes helped me. And I guess I continue the Old Trickster's way of adopting things from others.

Though I do it with a blessing, not anger.

Why did he pick us? (Finloch and I)

[jayshrisitaram108]