logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: OCTOBER

INTRO LOG: OCTOBER

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: october 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. scavenger hunt prizes are awarded. the ferry capsizes in a blaze of glory.
warnings: n/a.

welcome to beacon.

It's dim, and the room won't stop swaying, gently rocking you back and forth. A loud sound startles you fully awake, a deep, moaning call: a foghorn. As your eyes adjust, you note faint red light streaking through the room from a tiny, round window.

You've found yourself in a private room, lying on a bed. The last things you remember are the events that led up to your death. Beside you is a folded tablet and a lantern that glows steadily with a healthy flame.

You're on a ship. And that ship is docking.

Making your way to the deck, and eventually the pier, you find only moonlight to greet you, and a dark forest beyond. There are other people here, each with their own unique lantern, and many of them look just as lost as you are. On the ferry you've just disembarked from, the speaker system begins to play a song.

In the distance, across the waters of the lake, you can see the tall silhouette of a lighthouse, its red light slowly turning.

•••

Luckily for all the newcomers, the tablet and the town have some resources available for playing catch up! In fact, as soon as they're prompted to enter a network username, an app containing all sorts of useful welcome information will launch. Newcomers can always check out the weekly bulletins and the records in town hall as well, and everyone's welcome to get in touch with the NPCs through their inboxes.

When the ferry docks, it seems as though you've been spared from any weirdness this month! It's good to have a break now and then, isn't it? And if you participated in the scavenger hunt, you're probably eagerly awaiting your promised prize—

But, ohp, what's that sound? Is that the ferry's engine firing up again? The ship roars to life again as some brave mutineers overthrow its autopilot system. Crowley and the Winter Soldier man the ferry's control room while Aziraphale flits between the cargo hold and the deck, attempting to assuage any accidental kidnapees with reassuring words and cake.

Unfortunately, the joyride is shortlived. Between the ferry's complex control panel and the haphazard attempts to override it, all the group manages to do is send the boat charging full speed ahead—which would be great if it wasn't facing the beach. The ferry jolts forward and careens smack into the dock, tearing down the entire structure and punching a sizeable hole in the ferry's hull.

Well, that could've gone better. But there's no time to dwell on the mistakes of the very recent past! The ferry is sinking, and quickly! Looks like you'll have to scramble if you want to save what's left in the cargo hold before the whole thing goes under... And that's gonna be awfully tricky without a dock.

Oh, and maybe save the new arrivals? Make sure they don't drown? But, then again, if they go down with the ship, they'll just show up again in the church... The same can't be said for the restock for the general store!

As smoke billows from the damaged ferry and the last the harbor disappears into the lake, the Lighthouse Keeper appears on the network with a pretty straightforward question. Also, the ferry's song changes, so. That happens.

ooc.

Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to In the Night! For this intro log, you are officially without a chaperone. Rastus is back at the bonfire, Will is characteristically elusive, and Robin is, well, you know where she's at. It's up to the veteran residents to fill in the new folks.

And regarding the ferry disaster... Well, you have some options. Here's what you need to know:
This is a player plot organized by MJ, Xy, and Gail! A big thank-you to them for providing us with this intro log event!

Whether or not your character and any packages addressed to them are affected by this plot is up to you! If you would like to assume your character avoids dealing with this chaos and somehow grabs their delivery without issue, go right ahead!

Similarly, if you're looking for an opportunity to make your character's life harder, injury and death are always on the table! Or maybe it's your package that takes the abuse, lost forever to the lake's depths or washing up all waterlogged a week or two down the road. In short: How you engage with this plot is entirely up to you.

What happens to the ferry and the dock? Within a couple of hours, the ferry will sink completely, and anything on board when it goes down is lost forever. Which bodes super well for the ferry, huh? Sure hope the next batch of newcomers has some strong swimmers. Oh, and the dock is gone, too. If you want it back, you'll have to rebuild it.

As for Crowley, Aziraphale, Bucky, and anyone else on the ferry or dock during the collision... Hope you boys like concussions, bruised ribs, and a broken bone or two, because you've got 'em! The exact injuries are up to you, but they're the equivalent of a semi-serious car accident.

One last thing: The fate of the shop restocks, including all of the food for the month, depends on you! Let us know if your character will be participating in the rescue attempt. In exchange for letting us beat up your character, you can save a portion of the month's supplies! We'll let you all know on October 3 what the rations for the rest of the month will look like.

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

The monthly store restock
For Daylight: A variety of gardening tools piled into a wheelbarrow, as well as packets of seeds for the following plants: Boneset, dogtooth violet, starflower, Carolina springbeauty, pipsissewa, bloodroot, red columbine, narrowleaf blue-eyed grass, harlequin blueflag, and purple pitcherplant; he will also receive a translation for the following: An invitation to join the speaker as company
For Aziraphale: A record player, the complete discographies of a variety of bands (Abba, Rob Zombie, Tool, Hanson, Eiffel 65, and Spice Girls), a two-tiered wedding cake, and packets of seeds for the following plants: Strawberry, cherry tomato, cucumber, blackberry, carrot, potato, raspberry, and pumpkin; he will also receive a familiar copy of a familiar book: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, along with a blue ribbon that reads "BEST IN SHOW"
For Bruce: A handheld metal detector and a rechargeable battery for it, a chisel, a climbing harness (that, according to the packaging, is the #1 Safety Rated!) and a 50 ft. coil of rope
For Cao Pi: A go board
For Rosinante: A sextant, and 3 cartons of cigarettes; he will also receive a translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "Danger! Run and hide!"
For Kuai: A basket of 16 mooncakes, as well as incregredients for more
For Javert: 3 pairs of handcuffs, a greatcoat in Javert's size, and a trunk full of swords in varying styles and conditions; he will also receive an electric chainsaw
For Kol: A record player, the complete discographies of a variety of bands (New Kids on the Block, Weird Al Yankovic, Sound Garden, Ke$ha, INXS, and Spinal Tap), a cooler full of blood bags and ice packs, and an assortment of stamps; he will also receive a translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "I'm lost" or "Need directions"
For Elena: A journal; she will also receive a portable generator (powerful enough for a single power tool or small appliance; can be charged through a typical wall outlet)
For Xayah: A thick journal and a glass vial of black ink; she will also receive a sizeable roll of barbed wire, as well as a stuffed animal
For Ignis: A spice restock (with a few new ones mixed in!), 3 paired of leather gloves, and... 12? pairs? of glasses? They're all in slightly different prescriptions, though. A variety pack!; he will also receive a power drill (runs on a rechargeable battery or can be plugged directly into a wall socket)
For Riku: A wood stove, a set of paints, and 5 canvases; he will also receive a translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "Looking for water" or "Thirsty"
For Matt: A rosary and a Braille Bible... which is more of a collection of volumes, really; he will also receive a translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "Looking for food" or "Hungry"
For Noctis: Two complete sets of the Lord of the Rings series (except, wait a minute... they appear to be the novelizations of the movies); he will also receive an SD card that, when plugged into a tablet, will upload GPS directions to a new location...
For Rosalind: A crate of basic all-purpose lab equipment, a fancy microscope, an emergency eye wash station, a mortar and pestle, a lab coat, a Lite Brite, and... the things she needs to make things float, whatever those are; she will also receive a pair of dousing rods (that will actually point in the direction of water, checkmate atheists)
For Jason: A translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "Sympathy" or "I'm sorry"
For Coraline: A translation for the rough equivalent to the following phrase: "Teach me"
For Eliot: A bottle of hospital grade painkillers (it contains 10 doses and functions similarly to Vicodin)
For Allie: A bottle of strong antibiotics (it contains 10 doses and can fight off most any infection)
For Vanitas: A portable camping stove (runs on a portable battery or can be plugged directly into a wall socket)
For Hope: A soldering iron (runs on a portable battery or can be plugged directly into a wall socket)
For Quentin: A cannister of foaming bandage (can be used 5 times to immediately close a wound/stop semi-severe bleeding)
For Mary: An SD card that, when plugged into a tablet, will upload GPS directions to a new location...

If you submitted an item request last month and we've missed it here, let us know!

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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Is it?

[ The words are out before he can really stop himself and he finds himself looking to her in the dim light around them, the flickering from both their lanterns providing a warm yet soft glow in the dark room. But as before, he comes to shake his head then, teeth dragging over his lower lip for just a moment. He can appreciate her telling him this... he'd told her about his sister after all but... he knows how hard it can be when it comes to the things that really hit your heart hard. ]

Well, I hope he knows what he's missing out on then. If he ever needs his ass kicked, don't know he'd find anyone better for the job.

[ And he might just offer her the hint of a smile at that. ]

It wasn't, at first. But it is now. It has to be, there's no other choice. One cannot force someone to love them in return.

[ As much as she wanted to try and force that, that's selfish and totally unrealistic. She hadn't really ever thought Noctis would ever love her back, and so she shouldn't have been as hurt as she was. Still is, in a sense. But she needs to be over it, because that part of her life -- unlife? Is over. It never really got to start.

His words make her smile wider, and she gently takes his hands in hers, giving them a fond squeeze. ]

Thank you, that is very kind of you to say, Nyx. Though I feel as if he is in good hands already in that aspect...

[ She's not going to namedrop Ignis. It's not her place to tell him everything, and besides. He'll find out on his own. ]

› arrival (closed to newcomers)

[ waking to darkness, in itself, is not so strange. it's the gentle rock of the boat, the soft echo of water slapping against the hull, and the quiet flicker of lamplight that catch hermione's attention — and then, her fear, as reality slaps her in the face with all the delicacy of a troll playing quidditch. (that is to say: none.)

how is she here? and where is here? the last thing she remembered was... what was it? think, hermione. she'd been in the ministry, she'd been in grimmauld place, she'd... oh! the death eater had spooked her, and they'd apparated, hadn't they? surely she hadn't apparated to a boat, though? apparition requires knowledge of where you're headed, and she certainly would not have been knowledgable about a boat.

calling out is her first instinct. but no matter how many times she yells harry or ron, no matter how loudly she calls for them, they don't answer. instead, there are other voices, those she might have woken up with her frenzied shouts or those already awake and moving about, in the halls and in the rooms beyond. panic, now, sets in, and hermione begins step two of crisis management... talking to herself. ]

Okay. Okay, relax, breathe. There's a logical explanation for this. There has to be. Where are you? That's first step. Find where you are, find your wand, and get back.

[ her wand, thankfully, is easy to find. tucked in the pocket of her blazer — mafalda hopkirk's! from the ministry! — intricately carved vine wood rests against her hip. answers, though, take a little more time. it takes finding the tablet beside her, opening it up, and devouring the written word inside with a voracious appetite for answers... and then, for stopping every so often to wonder aloud: ]

I'm not dead, that's ridiculous.

[ or, more annoyed than curious: ]

What kind of utter hogwash is this?

[ feel free to interrupt her at any point of her journey, for those aboard the ss whatsitsname. ]

› sink or swim (open to all)

[ she's standing on the top deck when the ferry crashes, and her reaction is... not the best. ]

You have got to be kidding me.

[ first, your electric book tells her she's dead. now, you lot go and crash charon's ferry? talk about a nightmare come to life. (the afterlife, her brain supplants, and hermione groans.)

can she swim? of course she can swim. ever-practical people, the grangers had signed toddler hermione up for swimming lessons in the overly chlorinated pools of the local ymca, ensuring she would never find her gruesome end in a measly five centimeters of water. they had not, however, signed her up for classes on how to escape a sinking ship, so how useful those classes were is really up in the air.

for now, though, hermione focuses on not drowning in the lake. practicality reigns here, and once she sheds her initial bout of panic, her movements are quick, efficient. her blazer, stripped off, forms a neat base for a makeshift bindle; between, she nestles the tablet (always save the book, even strange electronic ones) and her heels before tying it together and tossing it into her bag.

her tiny, formal, beaded purple handbag. yes, the bindle is bigger than the bag, and yes, it fits. and, yes, the sound of things jostling inside when she nearly drops it is more akin to a tilted cargo hold than a ladies' handbag, but what of it?

more importantly, where is everyone rushing to, and why are people jumping back in the water? isn't the whole point of surviving a sinking ship to get to land, not the other way around? she'll have to stop someone, anyone, and ask: ]

I'm sorry, what is happening, exactly?

› the aftermath (open to all)

[ she does not drown. she is already dead, but she does not drown and then die again. her lantern stays lit, she makes it to dry land, and her beaded handbag remains quite firmly in her possession, looking surprisingly dry for having survived such an ordeal. (it's bewitched. these things happen.)

of course, being soaking wet isn't something she wants to be, and so hermione's first step is to dry herself off. a complicated twist of her wrist and a tap of her wand generates a stream of hot air, and with practiced sweeps of her hand, hermione quickly steam-dries her once-soaked clothes. if she ought to be more subtle about using magic or keeping her wand out, well, she'd like to see the ministry send her a howler if she's supposedly dead.

for those stumbling to shore with her, she's happy to extend the favor upon request — or even without it, should someone look particularly miserable. after all, hermione does wish to be useful.

later, as rescuers come back to land, she's ready and waiting with a reassuring face and a bit of dry cloth. admittedly, these are cloth pieces that, upon further inspection, are really just ripped up bits of fabric, magically expanded — they won't soak up much water, but will at least allow a face to be patted dry before they're soaked through. better something than nothing, right? ]

› wildcard

[ choose your own adventure. drop me a line at semicolons or via pm if you have questions/concerns! ]

She shouldn't be here. Smart people rest when they're injured. They take care of themselves in the hopes of getting better faster. People with literal holes in them, don't go traipsing down to the docks to carry bags of supplies but Scarlett had been doing this every month when the ferry came in. It was how she justified coming here. She wasn't looking for a familiar face, she was making herself useful and as long as she had that story to tell herself, she'd keep on doing it.

Perhaps it was for the best that society collapsed in her world. Intelligence wasn't a prerequisite for survival.

She was always on alert when she came to meet the ferry but her focus, was as always, on those who were arriving. That was where she expected the stupidity to come from, from a group of unknowns who weren't handling their arrival so well. Not a trio of idiots with an inability to think things through - or apparently give a fuck about the rest of them. More than that, she wasn't expecting to know one of them - her fury quickly morphing to shock then back again as she maneuvers her way around those quickly trying to embark, in order to reach ~~Bucky~~ Tinman - only to be greeted by a gun to her face.

"You're not going to shoot me." Irritation in her tone at the fact that they were doing this again. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

i. before the crash

[ As soon as the ferry docks, Elena is onboard, offering polite welcoming smiles to the newcomers but also making a beeline for supplies that were brought each month. She'd been promise a new journal, something nice to replace the flimsy notebook she'd found in the general store, and with everything that's been going on... Well, she's eager to have it in her hands. So much of herself was left behind in Mystic Falls that if she can have just this one piece back, she can keep going here and hold it together.

Finding the package that's a bit too big for just a journal, she disembarks, prefering to properly greet any new arrivals when they hit dry land. ]

Hi, I'm Elena.

[ With one hand holding her lantern and the other her package, she can't really shake anyone's hand, but considering what they're all going through, that's probably not a problem. They'll still get a genuinely kind and friendly greeting, the young woman trying her best to put on a good face for these people who very likely aren't as used to dying as she is. ]

ii. the crash itself (open to one person at the dock)

[ Everything about Beacon has been a bit surreal and hard to believe, but the fact that someone would hijack the ferry has to take the cake. Monsters and eternal darkness, she can accept easily enough. People just being plain idiots? That's a harder pill to swallow. But that's absolutely what's happened when Elena notices the engines starting up again, taking a few steps to try (and fail) to see through the darkness to figure out who might be up there. But instead, the boat lurches forward, crunching through wood with a loud crash that screams of damage to the ferry itself.

Instinct sends Elena rushing forward into the darkness, dropping her package but clinging to her lantern as she moves with vampire speed toward the nearest heartbeat on the dock, grabbing hold of them and lifting slightly to run with them out of harm's way. The action irritates the wound on her left arm but she ignores it, setting the other person down on their feet while the ferry is still crunching into the dock, barely a second having passed. ]

Are you okay?

[ She's also trying very steadfastly to ignore the giant splinter of wood sticking out of her left calf. Vampires might be fast, but they aren't invincible superheroes. ]

iii. saving and salvaging

[ The ferry is sinking and with it, all the supplies for the month ahead. Supplies that these people will need. Despite her own injuries, Elena doesn't hesitate to hurry forward, leaping onto the ferry's deck in a fear no human could accomplish and heading straight for the supplies, one hand still tightly gripping her lantern. But should she run into anyone still onboard and in need of help, she'll stop for them, because the boat is sinking fast and they have to hurry

By the time she gets to the cargo hold, there's already water above some of the packages and she has to hold her lantern up to wade through the cold water and grab hold of the nearest package, hefting it with ease but grimacing against the pain in her leg as she continues putting pressure on it. ]

iii. wildcard

[ Want something else? Hit me with your best shot or poke me at taintedcrimson or taintedcrimson#0896 ]

Edited 2019-10-02 13:49 (UTC)

It's okay, kid, you did plenty.

[Stone is, in fact, pretty impressed. That's not magic he's seen much of in his world. He gives her a ruffling sort of pat on the back where she's kneeling on the ground, bent down in order to reach.]

That's a handy spell you have. That's a lot of shit you managed to move around.

"I did, yes. Random ones, no idea-- no idea which ones I received, but I do remember rifling past them to get to the cake, must've been-- cucumbers, I think? Maybe apples?"

He looks so bewildered and frustrated. "Can't believe I don't remember-- oh!"

Yep, sorry Daylight but Aziraphale is going to be over here, slightly useless as he trudges on.

Ferry; arrival, before the crash

Death was confusing, Prompto decided. He didn't think much about what happened after death regularly--he figured there was an afterlife of some sort, but he was barely into his 20's and didn't want to think about kicking the bucket just yet.

Apparently he did, but not on purpose. He remembers a whole lot of daemons, and he was doing his best to fight them off, and then he had to reload his gun...one daemon was faster than it should have been, or else he was just slowing down, but he remembers a Reaper and then a lot of pain. And now he's on a boat, with a phone-kinda device and an interesting lantern beside him.

"Hey uh, anyone I know here?" He's skimmed the phone-thing's info, and is wandering the boat, alternately holding his lantern out for light and holding it close to protect it, like he can't decide.

Abandon ship; just before and during crash

So while he hasn't fully accepted death being a real actual thing, despite the welcoming tablet saying so and the fact that there's an impressive and angry-looking scar stretching across his stomach and possibly around to his back (he can't tell so far), leaving his shirt nearly in two pieces. It doesn't look very survivable, but it doesn't hurt and so. Whatever.

He wants to get off the boat, though. It's dark and scary beyond the firelight of his lantern, but whatever form of the river Styx this might be, if there's a chance to get off of it, he's taking it.

And he's glad he did, because it starts up like it might be leaving again--not that unusual--but instead of leaving the dock and going back to where it came from, it crashes straight into the pier, smashing it to pieces.

"Was...that wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

Rescue mission; during ferry sinking

"Need a hand?"

Prompto's not the best swimmer, but high school physical education classes mandated that he at least be competent at it, so after making sure his lantern is hung in a relatively safe place, he's going in to help anyone who looks like they need it. The water is murky and dark, he's jabbed his leg on something sharp, and he may or may not be shaking out of nerves and cold, but he's trying his best.

Aftermath/Wildcard

Once there's no more people to help out and the ferry's disappeared under the water with whatever cargo it may have had, Prompto can be found by the bonfire, lantern sitting beside him, attempting to dry himself out and possibly anyone else that might need it more than him. The torn portion of his shirt has come completely off, leaving it longer in the back than the front, and and attempt to redo his hair has failed and left him with what looks like wet bedhead rather than the fauxhawk he was trying to achieve.

Considering how hectic everything has been, Daylight can't really blame the poor guy for being flustered. Honestly, this might be one of the better reactions to what's just happened. (Whatever... had happened here. Daylight is still unsure of what's going in and is just trying his best to react and be useful.

Like right now:) "I'll see what I can get from the ship and bring them up to you." Daylight is already emerging himself in the waters, white-purple arc "Just- Try to stay here, okay? Please? I think more people might come by here and get the stuff to bring back to town so knowing what got taken would be when I get back."

Plus the poor guy kind of looks like a wreck and then some, as Emer would have described him. He definitely needs a break of some sort.

Edited (updated my comment with the other commenti sent you i'm so sorry oh my gosh) 2019-10-02 12:02 (UTC)

There's about half a second's pause before the safety clicks back on, finger comes off the trigger, and gun hand drops to point the pistol safely at the ground.

(Got you there. Yeah, well. It's reflex. I wouldn't shoot Scarlett again, I'm not a moron.)

"Handler Crowley wants to try and get back to Earth," the Soldier answers simply, continuing its trek to the cabin at the back of the ferry, where the controls are. "I have to help. The ferry is the most logical option, since that's how we arrive." It steps inside, gun coming up to point around the cabin just in case, but then coming back down again as the Soldier settles at the control panel.

Some of the tension eases from her shoulders as the safety clicks back into place, Scarlett relieved at least to know that he still has some kind of hold on his senses - at least enough to recognize her. His words do little to reassure her further, however, Scarlett's features twisting with incredulity.

Bucky gets no more than a step before she's hot on his heels, stalking after him into the cabin of the Ferry and forcing him to deal with her crowding him as she tries to get him to see sense.

"And strand the rest of us?!" Silently urging him to stop long enough to really think this through. "This isn't The Red Room, or wherever the hell you were you don't have to do any of this."

Since he came late to the scene, Daylight doesn't have the whole picture about what (or who) was exactly behind the sinking of the ship.

But, either way, he'll still go up to the guy he had noticed while jogging towards up the direction of the Invincible. Momentarily distracted by the usual game of have we met wet or are you new?, Daylight notices his current state and oh- whoa- Hey- I think you should take a break," Daylight suggests, his expression one of pure concern. "You're in pretty bad condition, mister."

▶ 01. GO FOR A SWIM?

( there's nothing specifically aboard the ferry for ambrose but new people arriving typically is a highlight which means he'll tear himself away from whatever exciting activity he's participating in to go stand out there and see who all's died and is now a resident of their permanently dark and dreary town.

he doesn't do anything silly like wave but he's there, waiting patiently. patiently, that is, until he realizes that the ship isn't slowing down like it should be.

in fact, it seems to be almost accelerating and while ambrose isn't any sort of sailor, he knows that shouldn't be happening. so, he backs up a few steps, an involuntary motion that takes him away from the docks just as the ship hits it.

hard. ambrose throws up a shield, blocking most of the flying debris and detritus that's coming from the crash from hitting him but some still strikes and that's going to smart later. )

Are you serious?

( how many ferries had come through thus far and this hadn't ever happened? what in the hell?

there's really no time to place blame (yet) because once ambrose is sure all of his bits are where they're supposed to be, he moves closer to the wreck and starts muttering incantations and spells, trying to keep people afloat who might otherwise sink and grabbing what supplies he can when they get close enough. )

Are you serious?

( he's usually a little more eloquent than this but he's annoyed, wet, and starting to ache. )

▶ 02. AFTERMATH

( it takes awhile for things to settle. ambrose isn't sure if they've lost anyone personally but he knows they've lost supplies and they've lost the ferry which is concerning.

but, ambrose isn't going to think about that just yet. he's going to drink. he's going to sit inside the invincible and drink what alcohol stores they still have. )

A toast ( he says to no one in particular ) to the booze we're not going to be able to drink because of what just happened. May it rest in peace.

( and then he drinks and starts to cope because he's dead and now, they might be screwed. )

▶ 03. WILDCARD

( feel free to throw anything else at me. hit me up at

spoonishly for plotting! )

"I was only borrowed there," the Soldier reminds her. "And I don't actually think this will work." That's the reason it doesn't actually feel at all bad about this. It's mostly expecting nothing to happen, and if anything does happen, it won't take them anywhere. Being able to steal the ferry and go back to their lives feels way, way too easy.

Though even if it felt bad, it'd still be doing it.

The most straight-forward seeming means of starting up the engine does nothing. It has several more options, though.

Yeah, that metal arm isn't doing the Soldier any favors right now. It's basically a useless, occasionally twitching piece of junk stuck to its shoulder at the moment.

The Soldier still has one good arm, though. And super-strength. So it's still carrying things safely to the inn.

It does pause and blink at Daylight, though, when addressed. Obviously the Soldier's seen Daylight around, he's hard to miss, and that stupid presence in the back of his mind keeps calling him "neat" and wanting to smile at him, but it hadn't expected being addressed. "I'm fine. The arm is just malfunctioning a little." Or a lot. Whatever.

You use a wand for your magic?

( ambrose doesn't mean to sound disbelieving but, well, it's adorable. he doesn't know if he's seen an actual wand in use in years. it doesn't dampen the strength of her magic but it's still cute and he's still going to chuckle. tact wasn't always a strong point but he doesn't think he's being mean about it.

just...amused. )

You're a witch, then? Or just a very practiced illusionist? ( he doesn't recognize the spell she'd just done and he doesn't know what it's aim was but she'd seemed practiced so he doesn't think it was just smoke and mirrors. )

And since I don't recognize you, I'm going to assume that you're new and you came in on that very smooth ride over there.

( rest in peace, docks. )

[ Out of the corner of her eye, Elena catches sight of the bundle disappearing into a much smaller bag, but it doesn't quite tear her attention away from the task at hand. Then the sound registers distantly in her mind, the almost echoing of too many objects in a large space that does not match what should be possible in reality. But again, she doesn't let it deviate her focus.

She can't not stop and answer the question from the confused young woman, though, her lantern held high and her entire jeans soaked in the cold water from below. Hopefully the darkness hides the tear along her left calf and the angry cut from the crash. ]

There are supplies down below, we have to get them out before this thing sinks.

[ She sounds surprisingly calm about it, all things considered. It's the adrenaline of the situation, the purpose and determination to do what needs to be done. ]

[ The elements might not have abandoned her entirely, but Kettara's magic has been horribly weakened by her death. It feels like a rebuke, and one that's she's spent time considering in detail despite the chaos unfolding around her. She has disappointed her master and she has disappointed the elemental spirits with her failure.

But they respond nonetheless when she casts Water Walk, though only just. She cannot cast it on anyone else, though Kettara has tried several times, and the spell begins to weaken with every step she takes on the water's surface.

It won't hold. She's been brought low, made weak by her own failings, and this is the result.

Still, she pushes forward. There's work to be done, a disaster to be tended to, and this, at least, is something she's done before. ]

Stand up.

[ She offers her hand to the man in the water. Her spell is holding for now but it won't last and she's beginning to have trouble breathing properly, her ruined breastplate digging sharp into her chest. ]

Or are you trapped? Tell me where.

She

« « « Ferry crashing It's time to live with what we have and mourn what we lost.

[Quentin is on the docks, having followed Eliot down half out of habit, but also because he wants to great the new-comers. Wants to make sure that no one ends up sleeping in the town square or wandering the woods. So, he plans to walk around, saying hello and welcome to anyone who might look like that was a thing they wouldn't mind him doing.

So, standing on the docks, lantern at his feet, Quentin watches it pull up and a few people get off before the towns people board it along with Eliot, looking for supplies and packages most likely and Quentin tunes it out-- manages it for a whole five minutes before the engine of the ferry roars like a wild beast, the water churning up the sides of it and it doesn't sail off. No, it launches itself at the docks, keel up and plowing through the wood before he even has a chance to yell or scream, people being thrown clear off and on to dry ground and others going over the side to plunge in to the freezing waters. Quentin is halfway through a tut when something hard smashes in to his back and forces him down on his knees, kneeling even as the ferry tips over in almost slowmotion and a song? starts playing. What the fuck?

Still on his knees, Quentin starts the next tut even as the water rushes up around him, the steel-beams and woodwork from the dock falling down around his ears, his hands flying through each one, fingers twisting fast and practiced through a shield, a shimmering net, to push under the ferry to keep it afloat for longer, another for keeping the splintering boards underneath his knees from falling in to the lake and another, to build when he can't mend - an only barely stable bridge from dry land and to the ferry to help people get back to safety.]

Help me! Get them off the ferry! Fucking do something!

« « « Ferry crashing closed to Eliot WaughEverybody wanted to be the hero of their own story

[With all the screaming and the sudden beam to the back, it takes Quentin a while to get back up and look for Eliot. There are people everywhere, screaming for help or scrambling over debris to get at the screaming ones, there are people lying too still and much, much too quiet on the ground and all Quentin can do, now, is look at the boat, waiting for Eliot to show himself.

He waits, casting tut after tut to try and help the nearest ones, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and squinting through the massive headache building at the base of his skull.]

« « « After the crash Nobody wanted to be comic relief. [one person only / first responder]

[It's done.

The ferry is beneath the waves and probably most of what it was carrying in fifty feet under water by now. Quentin is down by the ragged edge of what's left of the docks, beaten up lantern beside him and he tries to casts tuts to heal wounds, to knit bones and to lower the fear - the fear of who did this? Why? Are they going to do something else? Are we safe? And no one knows the answer to that, so he's just going to keep reassuring people that this was a mistake, a one-off, a faulty ferry and keep on healing, the blood flowing freely now because it's coming to fast for him to wipe away and besides, his sleeve is drenched anyway. Blood smeared all over his face and his back is on fire and his hands are numb, magic bleeding out with every breath until suddenly-

Quentin keels over.]

« « « wildcard You'll never know if you put the ring in the right volcano

[Find him anywhere, healing people. Ask for help? For directions? Hit me up and we can work something out.]

Edited 2019-10-02 17:07 (UTC)

[Stone does not look particularly impressed by her teeth. He bares his, right back: they may not jut out of his mouth like hers, but they're sharper than your average human's. He doesn't look particularly aggressive about it; it's more of a reflex response to being growled at.]

There's room for two people up here. I'll even sit over here on the far side, if you're that touchy about it.

We've a very set number of supplies.

[The woman who answers looks rather grim, all things considered, her mouth pinched and her eyes narrowed. British and upper class, judging by her accent, and her arms are crossed beneath her chest.]

Our month's food is on there, as are any personal items we've requested. All my laboratory for equipment, for example.

[Her tone is that of chilled fury, but it isn't directed at her companion.]

Well done.

[It's very dry, because she's not giving him a compliment. With no hesitation, she sets the knife to all that tight fabric, cutting his trousers away carefully, because leather pants come and go, but gangrene is a very nasty constant.]

I'll splint your legs. But you will owe me, Crowley.

1. The Crash

[And here she thought she had learned her lesson; despite all the knowledge that tells her not to go and help, her legs didn't listen and she wound up on the beach regardless. Or, rather, again. She had already picked her stuff up and was making her way up and back to the bonfire when the resounding crash of the ship filled the night. She had stopped dead in the tracks, eyes looking around frantically. At first, she thought it was another attack of the Forest Spirits but-

With a curse, she fleets across the ground and to the closest person, dragging them out of the water. After that, she hops aboard, looking for a way to help and salvage things.

She should have just turned away the moment she dragged that person out of the water. Because the moment she's done tossing the packaged supplies onto the safe grounds, a part of the ferry breaks off with a resounding crack, and she's sent flying overboard and into the nearby debris. She's not sure what was louder- the crack of her body or her yelp. There's a searing pain in her side and despite it, she tries to push herself up. But the wooden plank she grabbed just gives in and she falls back down with a curse. Okay, yeah, she got the point- she can't move.]

Dammit... go to hell... [Xayah mutters under her breath, curling up on her side.]

2. The Aftermarth

If I drink myself into the oblivion, would it numb the pain...?

[Question mostly aimed at herself than anyone else in the vicinity. Her ribs are cracked, but not broken, so she's just lounging at the back of the Invincible, on one of the long booths. Her entire left side is numb and the pain shows only with a twitch of her tall ears or a faint grimace every now and again.

One of the prizes she got is on the table, atop of the journal she ordered, and she's poking it with her finger; the second one, barbed wire, underneath the table. She's not sure what to do with it though. But, it's a useful thing, she'll handle it somehow.]

Stabbing the smartasses that sunk the ship with a feather or two sounds like a brilliant idea, I agree, [she says to her little bird gift.]

3. Wildcard

[OOC: Have some of your ideas? Bring them all here! We can also plot at

WindsongWitch ~ feel free to add me]

[ Hey.

The sound comes like it's fighting through a thick layer of wet cotton. Muffled but not distant inside the howling tunnel of silence, and that's the rush of blood in one's ears, the tattered dregs of the adrenaline that's probably kept Quentin afloat as long as it has.

Hey! Stop!

There's no getting there in time to catch the magician before he hits the splintered wood, all along the way the shore's churned up like the wreckage of the docks has tilled the sandy soil beneath all these hurrying feet, dredging up little shells and half-decayed vegetation.

The hands that pull him up are cool and a little shaky. Riku's teeth are grit against the shivering need to chatter them; it's cold to his islander blood already without trying to salvage whatever supplies they can from the lake's frigid depths.

He takes stock of the blood, but it's not until he turns him over to lean against Riku's bent knee that he realizes who it is. He should've known - between the magic crackling everywhere and the way this guy was just moving his hands.

Riku can't even judge him for going overboard, for punching at his own limits to help people. He hears a great, wooden groan and feels this shattered remnant of the docks shudder and list, so he pulls him up into his own arms and stands--

Which doesn't help with the dock's listing, it's starting to collapse and he won't really have time to charge across the last of it before they might both end up pitched into the cold water. They both still have their lanterns. It would kill them both, but at least they wouldn't suffer. ]

Sorry--!

[ Not for the rescue. He won't regret that. He doesn't regret that.

But as he taps into his own heart and the dark power that lives it - into the anger, into the despair, the grief and the loneliness - and wraps himself and Quentin in the Darkness, he does regret exposing anyone to a power that tends to corrupt. It's only a short jump, with the two of them little more than some purplish-black smudge streaking through the air before they re-emerge on the shore, where he promptly puts him down. ]

[ hermione had expected some reaction. after all, magic was a secretive business in the presence of muggles, and her blatant disregard for the statute of secrecy is mostly attributable to her current state of mild irritation at the concept of being dead. she had not, however, expected to be questioned on the performance of her magic.

he may frame his words with laughter and gentle tone, but to hermione, it's an affront all the same. that old insecurity rises up, eats at her, and she stiffens, wand hand clutching tighter around the carved vine wood. ]

I am capable of wandless magic. [ it comes out perhaps more defensive than she'd like it to — but to be fair, she is still reeling from finding out she'd died. a little slack might be helpful. ] The Hot-Air Charm is just particularly finicky, and I don't like the odds of accidentally burning myself.

[ also, yes, she's new. but that seems to be a fairly obvious statement, and thus not one that really requires her to verbally confirm it. ]

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Page 3 of 58

INTRO LOG: OCTOBER

smh dw

ugh

hermione granger ✨ open

Hijacking :|

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3 Post-Titanic

still getting 504 random icon it is

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504 outages solidarity no selection we random like real rpers as we try to desperately to tag

Re: Hijacking :|

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( prompt: afterwards. ) // [finger guns because eyyyy time for them to finally meet!]

ambrose spellman ( chilling adventures of sabrina )

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~ aftermath ~

sink or swim

Ferry (b)

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3

sink or swim

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Xayah / League of Legends

After the crash - Nobody wanted to be comic relief.

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