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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Anyone at all is a welcome sight, but he does indeed recognize the metal arm and feels a sort of relief. It seems no matter which world they're from, many of the various soldiers here have found themselves sticking together in tough times.

He misses Wade and Gene, still. But his head is too fuzzy right now to think more on that, which is for the best.

As he lets go of the plank to throw an arm over Soldat's back, he winces and grinds his teeth. Is his arm fractured? Broken? He vaguely remembers shielding himself in that vortex of debris to keep the collapse from doing worse, like breaking ribs but adrenaline must have dulled the pain of the hit. Still, he's had worse. He'll manage. "Okay," he huffs, mouth just barely above the water as he lacks the strength to hoist himself up higher. "Okay. Thanks."

The Soldier has strength to spare, so it digs the metal fingers into he floating wood for a brief anchor, and reaches back to heft Rosinante up a little higher, arm all the way around its neck. "Hold your lantern over my head." Don't want to accidentally splash it. The Soldier hasn't experimented with what water does to these fires, yet, and doesn't want to find out what happens now. "I'll get you to shore."

"The sooner, the better," he says with an attempt at a smile. It's not the first time he's been injured, not the first time he's plunged overboard, and far from his first brush with death. It's not funny, but hell, now that he's over the shock of nearly drowning, there's no point being too dour about it.

The lantern will stay as high as he can reach. That's his real priority. He can hold his breath for a while if he has to, if somehow he slips back down again, or is struck by the churning debris of ferry and docks and supplies spilling out everywhere. Robin warned him that the lanterns would be put out by being doused in the lake, and that's one of the few things he'll absolutely believe from her without questioning it. Even if it's somehow not true for the others, it's probably true for him.

Sooner, it is. Thankfully, even despite the weight of the metal arm, the Soldier is a strong swimmer. Also, it's almost completely uninjured, just a few scrapes here and there. It does a passable breast-stroke, Rosinante on its back and legs dangling to one side, in order to keep the tall man's head and lantern above water. The metal arm makes a good shield against debris, too, so they don't get buffeted by too much en route, just the smaller pieces that it doesn't bother trying to deflect.

The initial shock of having nearly drowned starts to fade, and although Rosinante can't really do anything beyond try to stay alert and keep the lantern raised, he does manage that at least - and the latter surely takes some effort, with every second of contact with the lake sapping more of his strength. Good thing he has lots of it to spare.

Eventually they reach shallower waters, and though he keeps leaning against the soldier for support, he manages to swing his legs underneath him and stagger forward until finally he's on dry land. He sits himself straight down, winces at the sharp jolt of pain in his back and injured arm, then sets his lantern beside him. He'll have to dry off and warm up at some point but first he needs to get his strength back. "Thanks," he finally says with deep earnesty. "Got hit hard by part of the ship, or the docks, or something. Couldn't get out on my own."

To say nothing of his actual serious problem with water, but maybe the injury explanation will be enough to divert questions.

Lucky for you, Rosinante, the Soldier is currently all business, and is not about to start prying about why military men from planets that are mostly water don't know how to swim. For now, the Soldier just helps him sit, then crouches in front of him, ignoring how its hair and clothes are dripping now. The arm is actually streaming water from between the plates. "Where did you get hurt?" it asks. "I can set broken bones and bandage cuts if you have any."

"Yeah? Mind looking at my left arm? Figured it was better to risk it than getting hit in the chest when the docks fell apart. But there's probably a better place than here if it really needs help, and there might still be some supplies in the church."

It wasn't long ago that a full clinic was set up there, after all, and did anyone bother removing the medics' things? Not as far as he knows. It's helpful that Soldat and a few others know more than just the very basics he can manage.

It hurts badly to extend his arm so it can be examined, but he does it anyway. The pain can be seen in the slight wince at the corners of his eyes. It's not just the arm that's in bad shape, but surely his shoulder too. The impact had hit hard. And now that they're out of the water, it's much easier to see that there's a gash across his back just under that shoulder which is slowly soaking blood into his sweater. He doesn't seem to have noticed that particular injury yet.

"Of course." The Soldier will get to the bleeding, too. Arm first. It leaves the metal hand aside, since fine motor control isn't great while it's still leaking water, and gingerly feels along Rosinante's arm from wrist to shoulder, feeling for a break or a dislocation. Inasmuch as it hopes for things, it's going to hope for a dislocation. That takes much less time and effort to heal.

Its own lantern is close, but mostly shuttered and protected against stray splashes, so not very helpful for illuminating things-- all they have is Rosinante's light. "Where exactly were you hit?" it asks as it searches for the source of the pain.

"Uh, my arm, I don't-"

He's cut off with a sharp wince as the soldier presses against his lower forearm in his explorations, close to the elbow. His clothing may make it hard to notice, but it's swelling and bruised - a fracture, rather than a break. Rosinante is becoming acutely aware of the pain as the adrenaline subsides, and though his pain tolerance is pretty extreme, the prodding certainly draws a noticeable response.

"Right there. Must be. Shit," he hisses through his teeth.

It's not at the joint, so it's not a dislocation, and it doesn't feel like the bone is out of alignment. "It could be worse. I'll wrap it and make you a sling." The Soldier admittedly doesn't know how long anyone should wear a sling for with a broken bone. It knows some basic field medicine-- to keep handlers, targets, team members, and itself from dying before a real medic can get to them-- not long-term care.

And since its own clothing is mostly leather and kevlar, it tears off Rosinante's sleeve to get some fabric for wrapping, instead. Sorry, man, that probably hurts, and also shows some of the blood from the cut in his back. The Soldier is not really known for its bedside manner.

"Ow, damn, ask for a knife next time," he grunts between gasps, but quickly recovers while glowering slightly at his companion. The state of his injury is at least more visible now, purple and swelling and warm to the touch, but also covered with an array of old scars: some jagged, some stitched, some clean and straight.

But he does know well how to hold still despite the discomfort so that the soldier can make a simple sling. He'll find a proper doctor after. At least this will make it easier to walk around in the meantime.

Glower all you like, it's used to being glowered at. That's almost familiar, almost comfortable. It uses that sleeve to wrap tightly around the site of the break, tight enough for support but not to cut off blood flow.

Then, because Rosinante said not to rip, it pulls out one of its own many knives to cut off Rosinante's other sleeve for the sling. "Better?" it asks, with maybe a little bit of snark. Just a bit. "Also, you're bleeding."

Cool, now he can look injured but also weird-buff in his cutoff sweater until he finds a new one that fits - and good luck with that, since the supplies are currently sinking. He gives a snort in reply to the snark, but then frowns at what follows it.

"Am I?" It hurts to turn - it hurts to do a lot of things right now, he's finding - but turning his head does let him spot the dark stain spreading down his side from where he'd been struck in the back by jagged wood or metal. It's ugly, but superficial or he'd be having more trouble breathing - and he's been shot and stabbed through the lungs enough before to know.

"I'll get it cleaned up when I get back to the inn. Thanks," he says, nodding to the sling as it comes together. "Guess I owe you one. Or two. You probably saved my life."

"No," the Soldier says, the hint of emotion that came with the snark draining away into a kind of blank unhappiness. "You don't owe me anything. I owe everyone. This is my fault."

"Is it, now? How's that?"

He asks with genuine surprise as he looks toward the other man. Sure, he'd seen Soldat climb aboard the ferry at one point, but so had several others and he didn't pay much attention to who all was helping unload and who might have been up to something else. Of course, he does absolutely want to know who's responsible, now that he's in a state to be able to think about things other than the very real chance of death.

It looks to the left of Rosinante's face and reports, more than explains: "I tried to work the controls to the ferry and crashed it into the dock." And now it feels guilty as hell. Even the attempt at keeping its face blank doesn't keep the regret entirely off of it. Regret and guilt are relatively new feelings, in its experience. It's harder to keep them out of its expression.

"Why?"

Truth be told, he can see plenty of reasons why someone might think to get to the control room. Does the ship have a helmsman? How is it controlled? There's plenty to be learned, and he wishes he'd done it first himself. But that alone does not lead to sabotaging their entire existence by destroying both dock and ferry. Was it intentional? Accidental? Should it matter, given the result?

"Handler Crowley needs to get back to Earth. The ferry was the most logical path back, and the controls were unprotected." The Soldier frowns a little at its own behavior-- the crash had to be its own carelessness. How else could they have gone immediately into motion when it found the engine control? "I didn't think the controls would actually work. I wasn't as careful as I should have been."

Handler? An odd title. He's heard the name Crowley floating around but hasn't met the man yet. Some sort of leader, he takes it - and this poor fool decided to follow. And here he'd thought Cao Pi was bad.

No, he'll reserve judgment until he's met this Crowley.

Rather than focus on the disaster - for what's done is done, and he isn't one to punish without careful consideration of justice - Rosinante decides he might as well get what information he can. "You met nobody else at the helm? No captain, no crew? And the controls, what were they like?"

The Soldier's situation is a little unusual. Probably not many people would actually choose to follow Crowley, of all people.

"No crew, no guards. It's why I didn't expect the controls to work, they were too easy to get to." It glances around once, but no one appears to be drowning right nearby, so it has time to answer more questions. "They were electrical. Not what I expected, seeing the technological level of the buildings in the town. They didn't make any sense, nothing like any vehicle's I'm programmed with. The one that started the engine was a dial."

Okay, time to hold that thought on programming. Is the guy a cyborg? He'd taken the arm for a prosthetic but maybe he's more metal on the inside than he'd imagined. Neat. He'll have to ask later, when his head's not swimming with the ever-intensifying pain from his injuries.

"An electrical ship? I've never - well. All kinds of new things here," he sighs. And now the ferry is swiftly sinking to the bottom of the lake. Maybe those who can swim and dive can go recover information from it later, once it has settled and isn't about to tow anyone else down with it.

"I have a lot of questions, but I think I should probably go take some painkillers first," he grunts as he carefully stands back up.

"I can find you when things are calmer," the Soldier suggests, picking itself up and offering Rosinante its metal hand to haul him to his feet. It doesn't mind answering questions, but it really should be helping right now. Just answering questions aren't enough after what happened.

"Do that," he says as he stands, and though he does take the offered hand and give a slight nod of acknowledgment, he doesn't say thank you. He's between anger at nearly dying, at the loss of the ferry and the docks, and at least mild appreciation that someone did try to investigate the ship further than he had dared to.

Leaning toward anger though, as pain shoots through his arm and shoulder, and he clenches his jaw. Better to go get cleaned up and calm down. Give himself time to think this through.

"I'll be at the bar later. You can find me there," he says as he heads off.

The Soldier watches for a moment to make sure he's steady on his feet, then nods. "Okay."

Then it's back to work, finding more people and supplies to fish out of the water.

It takes a while before the Soldier makes good on the promise, because it spends a good six hours or so dealing with ferry business, between swimming, getting its arm shorted out by all the water, patching people up, and carrying things from the ruined docks to the store and Invincible. And then it has to get Crowley home, which means spending a little time drinking with the demon since Crowley insisted.

But finally it's back at the inn, looking around for the tall not-human. You still here, man?

He is, in fact, having taken up his usual spot for when he doesn't mind being found. He's seated in the corner of the room at a table, with the chairs pushed aside to make room so he can sit on a pillow on the floor. And even with that adjustment, even with his legs crossed, it's hard for him to fit his knees under the table without bumping it, so every now and then he shifts, jars his kneecap against the table, and rattles his drink. By now he's changed into one of the few other shirts that fits him, and has his arm in its sling kept beneath the massive black feather coat draped around his shoulders, while the other hand thumbs through comments on the network on the tablet before him.

Eventually he looks up, having caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and nods to the Soldier. "Come on over," he says around the cigarette in his mouth.

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