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logsinthenight2019-10-01 04:29 pm
inthenightmods) wrote in logsinthenight2019-10-01 04:29 pm
Entry tags:
- !intro log,
- ambrose spellman (tc),
- aziraphale (xy),
- bruce wayne (marzi),
- bucky barnes (gail),
- crowley (mj),
- daylight vis lornlit (melly),
- elektra natchios (carlee),
- elena gilbert (amy),
- eleven (inky),
- hermione granger (jenna),
- ignis scientia (helena),
- jason grace (erica),
- javert (rachel),
- jim gordon (king),
- jo harvelle (dee),
- kettara bloodthirst (fade),
- lunafreya nox fleuret (liz),
- m.k. (shira),
- masaomi kida (wind),
- matt murdock (kitty),
- nyx ulric (missy),
- peter parker (laura),
- prompto argentum (daimon),
- quentin coldwater (ireth),
- riku (dubsey),
- rosalind lutece (kit),
- scarlett harker (brooke),
- vanitas (king),
- xayah (helena)
INTRO LOG: OCTOBER
INTRO LOG: OCTOBER
DON'T STOP ME NOW
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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—aftermath.
helping hadn't been given any thought — there were people, first and foremost, new arrivals that'd be disorientated regardless; and then there were the supplies (there'd been a thought, too, that — oh god, he hadn't got her (his? their?) name. "newham." — had one-hundred percent earned the right to say I told you so.)
it's a change of pace that manages to make him feel more productive and more like himself than he's overly interested in acknowledging and giving much thought right now (how many times has he off-handedly thought that yes, he should definitely have therapy at some point, but also haha, that is never going to happen, he'll just keep on spider-man-ing it up—).
despite this (or relatedly), he'd managed to do something to his wrist, the exact details of which he's trying to ignore because he's not really sure he wants to know what, exactly, and there are bigger concerns, and he's definitely dealt with worse — if he had to grade the pain on a scale of one to ten, it's a definite 'mm, unpleasant, distinctly unusable but like, it's okay for now' (which is not a number, but it should be.)
what he is surprised by is the — whatever that was. a — wand and ... steam? hot air? (hot something, apparently), and though it's certainly not the strangest thing peter's ever encountered, not by any definition of the word, it still didn't quite manage to hit the list of 'sights he expected to see'.
a breath of a pause, then— ] That's got to make laundry easier.
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a startled bleat of a sound escapes, echoing into the night air — o-oh, possibly a muffled swear behind her hand, but don't ask her to repeat it or she'll simply deny it ever happened. though it's always night, isn't it? if it's always dark, there is no sun to break it. hermione wonders, for the first time, how people tell time here. she doesn't own a pocket watch. she supposes she could try to transfigure a pocket watch, perhaps out of some debris from the ship. but she doesn't know how a pocket watch works, not really, and isn't that half the point of —
she's getting sidetracked. ]
Sorry.
[ a sheepish smile and a muttered apology, as if the man opposite has any idea what she's apologizing for. (harry and ron would understand, she thinks, and a bittersweet combination of longing and gratitude blooms. sidetracked, again; she could get lost in her own thoughts for hours, thinking about them.)
she repeats herself — sorry, sorry — before finally managing to pull herself back to the present. ]
It's — quite a lot to get adjusted to. [ laundry? no. ] This place, I mean, it's very... different from what I'm used to.
[ she really ought to answer his question. ]
I can dry you off, if you want. [ and, ] Is your wrist alright? You're holding it rather strangely.
[ not quite nursing it, nothing so obvious, but the strange tension in his arm feels familiar. like the way harry or ron might have stood after being hit too many times with a bludger, a bad sprain or a fractured bone causing pain when at rest. mild tension alleviating the pain, but not doing anything to solve it. ]
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he assumed, at the first apology, that she was apologising for the swear word that she seemed to think she could hide behind her hand; it was a valiant attempt, albeit ultimately worthless — and he'd know: self-censorship was par the course — friendly neighborhood spider-man meant just that, and he didn't really fancy the daily bugle holding him up as a menace for teaching the youths of today distinctly un-family-friendly words along with whatever else he was being blamed for that week.
(roadworks taking longer than planned? spider-man's fault. a-train delayed? spider-man. all of it.)
—but then the apology comes a second time, and a third, and peter realises he's actually not sure what she's apologising for, or if she's actually apologising, or if that's just how british people introduce themselves.
(because if logan's anything to go by, which he is absolutely not, it's not how canadian's introduce themselves.)
his eyebrows knit together momentarily and he looks momentarily expectant, and then— "it's quite a lot to get adjusted to." right, okay, that — makes more sense than a really bizarre, possibly totally british quirk. ]
You mean, you're not used to washing up on the shore of an [ breath of a pause and he lifts his chin a fraction, glancing up at the sky, ] alien planet in perpetual darkness? [ not entirely uttered with the intonation of a question, and he leaves out the part about probably being dead before almost immediately continuing with: ] Because I'll be honest, it's a pretty big club but probably not as big as you'd expect.
[ but then he pauses, as the "I can dry you off, if you want" registers. it's still not the weirdest combination of words peter's ever heard but it's still—.
squint.
(yes, please, he thinks, because it's cold and he's wet and that's about the worst combination imaginable, but would it be weird to say yes? is it oddly desperate when there's a bonfire just down the road? and his feelings on magic are so incredibly mixed, but oh god, she can dry him off—
nnngh.) ] —I don't know how to say 'yes, please' without it sounding a little bit —. [ weird, because hermione, you are not doctor stephen strange and peter is not comfortable with obnoxiously asking for things just yet.
beat. ] But: yes, please. [ and he's just going to ignore that question about his wrist for the moment. ]
no subject
[ it doesn't look anything like elysium, or heaven, or hell — nor purgatory, nor any of the cultural representations of the afterlife that hermione has read about in her life. she is intent on thinking about it, her mind puzzling away at that particular thought, when he interrupts her with a ...
well. a rather breathless yes, please, a turn of phrase hermione's not sure she's ever heard before, and one that (in combination with the rather desperate tone it comes in) pulls the faintest hint of blush to her cheeks.
that isn't what he meant, and it certainly isn't what she meant, but here they are. hermione blushes, pink staining the apples of her cheeks, and pulls out her wand. there's a near sense of relief in escapism, in the way she too-loudly repeats the incantation, purposefully aiming the jet of hot air that spills forth from the tip down, not up. no need to blow up his shirt in the breeze, thank you very much, that's not her intention. she's just... trying to get him dry, that's all.
but it does require her to get a little closer, so there's that too. poor girl cannot catch a break. ]
Is that better?
[ or, you know, the sound of a garbled british accent over the roar of wind in your ears. either way, peter, there's a question being asked. ]
no subject
and because he's still not comfortable with admitting, casually, the ins and outs of how and why he knows assorted avengers, still more comfortable just going along with 'haha, yes, peter parker, mostly photojournalist, but there've been a couple of failed attempts at branching out from that, let's please not talk about the fact that my life fell apart when, and just after, my body got taken over by a cephalopod with a doctorate—.'
—and for as much as his feelings on magic are complicated, he can't deny his curiosity about how it works despite the fact that it's all over in a matter of seconds. he manages to look startled, first, then impressed, then— ] —Yes, thanks. [ there's a 'how' and a 'what' on the tip of his tongue, questions that he can't quite decide on how to ask beyond just going soo, magic, huh', so he skips them for now.
(he'll circle back to that.)
instead, then, there's a beat and the corners of his lips quirk upwards into a quick smile. ] I'm Peter, by the way, and I don't normally, uh, solicit the recently deceased for their ability to function as dryers, I promise. I'm actually surprisingly capable of being a real adult on occasion, just don't ask me to stand at the front of a line and choose coffee and pastries without feeling scrutinised.
[ but back to her question—.
peter shifts his weight slightly and drops his lantern to the ground before gesturing loosely towards the sky with the same hand. ] I don't know what you're like with astronomy, but — no-one's said they recognise the stars, so while the official line is that we're dead, [ uttered with the unsure emphasis of someone that hasn't quite decided if they believe that assessment or not ], we're also on a planet that used to be home to some— [ breath of a pause, because how many times can he use the word 'alien' before it stops sounding like a word? ] kind of life; and used to have a sun, but now—. [ he lifts a shoulder in a light shrug. ]
Which is the long way of saying: we could be dead, this could be the afterlife, but it's also an alien planet. [ he gestures loosely with his hand, very much in the manner of someone who's pretty used to talking with both of his hands and being functionally short of one is — inconvenient; it's punctuated by a slight wince, which he privately hopes she misses in the dark and relative gloominess of the beach. ] They're not mutually exclusive. [ is what he was trying to say. ]
no subject
she misses home. she misses hogwarts most — and, in turn, misses the opportunity she'd had to go back, the one she'd traded in for loyalty and friendship, opting to leave on a hunt that now proved beyond her ability to see through. she's reminded, again, that this is death. death or something worse, some alternative — but either way, the reminder of missing her seventh year stings at her again, a wound that has as of yet to heal over completely, torn open every so often by memory and recollection.
but she can, at least, respond to his introductory novel, a short, perfunctory: ] Hermione Granger, [ dropped into conversation before he continues on, still rambling, this time about stars and the sky, and hermione's face tips up to peer at said night a little more intently.
between arriving and an unexpected shipwreck and varying levels of functional introductions, her attentions have yet not been dragged up to the sky. now, looking at it, recognition (or the recognition of a lack thereof?) swallows up her attention; she shuts him up this time with a quick, ] I've studied Astronomy, yes.
[ got an outstanding on her ordinary wizarding levels and everything, thank you very much. ]
An alien planet might explain the fluctuations in magical composition. Different gravities, [ she gives a tentative push of her feet off the ground, but nothing seems different ] different — or a lack of — solar radiation, rather, if the sun is simply out rather than dipped below the horizon for however … [ a brief pause, hermione's mind whirring with thought, brought on by her eyes catching his strange, jerky motions.
oh, that's right. she asked him about his wrist, didn't she? ]
Why are you holding it like that? Let me see it, come on.
no subject
(yeah, no, probably not.)
—his spider-sense hasn't quite been the same, he mentally acknowledges; and he thinks, momentarily, of the spider totem and everything to do with — that. of his disdain and ezekiel pointing out that, actually, spiders don't have a miraculous sense of precognition that warns them of impending danger and that flossy the magic spider wasn't quite as ridiculous as it first sounded. so sure.
differences in magical composition, why ever not. ] —The question is: why is the planet still so green, [ he comments, idly. four months in, and the fact that there are plants and trees that have yet to wither and die is still bugging him and no-one's been able to present an answer for it.
(reed would have a field day here, he's certain of it, and there's frankly not a day that he doesn't wish this was simply some misadventure with the fantastic four, like when they'd ended up on that world that inadvertently worshipped them as gods (or something), and then suddenly, it was two months later back on earth, and—.)
then she asks about his wrist again, and he makes a noise that could be the start of a 'no', but just ends up being a soft 'nnn—', before: ] —The ferry, [ he says, like that explains everything, waving his other hand back towards the water. ]
I just pulled it, or bent it in a direction it's not supposed to bend. It'll be fine, I'm not—. [ beat. ] Look, I'm not asking you to be my personal dryer and nurse. It's just uncomfortable, so I'm going to segue this into a: hi, Hermione, welcome to Beacon, arrivals generally don't involve mutiny and sinking, did you have any questions that don't make me look as if I spoke to you just because you have a stick that does things when you speak — Latin?
no subject
[ a small, wry smile lifts the corner of her mouth, indication of her own pleasure at finding some measure of an intellectual contemporary, somehow who doesn't simply see the swish of a wand and go blank in the mind. it's — nice. she won't indulge in much more thought than that, but it is. it's nice. the men in her life have so often been physical beings. ]
It isn't always, but many spells do seem to have root in the Roman Empire. Some historians theorise it's due to establishment of magical schools and standardisation of casting practice, rather than reliance on more 'wild' nonverbal magics.
[ it would make sense, hermione thinks; much of ancient wizarding history is simply myth, with the oldest true historical works dating back to the early days of the republic. ]
For example: [ a brief pause, in which her eyes pan up to his just as the wand touches tip against his nursed wrist, long enough for a flicker of amusement (is she smug about it) to sparkle before she incants, ] Ferula.
[ the spell shares name with the latin for rod, referring to a genus of plants similar to the carrot — a genus of plants that provided a hollow, light rod, one used commonly in walking sticks and splints. perhaps it's fitting, then, that the spell generates and manipulates bandages, snug and secure against his wrist in a magically makeshift brace. in a perfect world, a textbook cast might relieve a little pain; here, it seems it stops just shy of such measures. ]
I do have a question, though. [ since he asked. ] Is there an inn or something nearby? I have — well, I had money with me, though I suppose it isn't worth much on an alien planet.
[ is she! teasing him! ]
no subject
—which ultimately means he doesn't have a whole lot to add to her explanation of magical schools and — standardisation of casting practice beyond a moment of silence, a look that borders on amused before he exhales a huff of breath that's definitely a laugh. it's not directed at hermione, more the sheer absurdity of the conversation, and the thought that this'd be a lot easier if he just admitted that magic existed where he was from, too, albeit not like—
"ferula". ] —You know, there's guy I know of back home. [ beat. ] I took his photo once or twice. He started off as a surgeon, and now he's, uh, not — he made a drastic career change into the mystic arts — and you could definitely give him a run for his money.
[ uttered with a smile because that actually was impressive, and he's going to allow that moment of smugness because it's definitely deserved; punctuated by— ]
But thanks, again. I definitely owe you, and speaking of inns, there's the Invincible. [ he turns slightly, pointing in its vague direction. when they — the first group — had arrived, it'd all but been the only place to hole up, and peter's more or less remained there since. not because it's a bar — he doesn't drink — but because as far as these things go, it's convenient. ] The barkeep is a forest spirit that makes absolutely questionable coffee that basically only hits the requirement of hot, comma, mildly caffeinated, but I hear it's got passable tea, maybe, and food. I'd say 'my treat', but you're right: currency is pretty worthless here.
—But still: my treat.
no subject
Alright, then. [ she's agreeable enough to that. ] Tea would be lovely. So long as it's hot, I'll manage.
[ magic, you see, has its uses. there are exceptions — she cannot outright conjure food, nor money, nor a living thing, but almost anything can be modified or transformed in some way if only you know how.
however! what hermione will find, in beacon, is that such magics will begin to wear on her. unlike in hogwarts, where magic is near limitless, boundaries enforced only by the mind of the caster and their magical experience, beacon likes to make things difficult. she's already found that, to an extent; she'll discover it more as time goes on. for now, though, she's happy to investigate the puzzles already in place. ]
You can treat me to a guided tour, if you like.
[ not quite the same as 'dinner on me', is it? but it's perhaps better, as it's infinitely more useful. and more intimate, besides, though that's not her intention nor on her mind at the moment. a walk just seems practical. ]
Though, first, is there anywhere I might be able to change?
[ she really hates this blazer. ]
no subject
If I like. [ he half-echoes in lieu of a 'sure'; he'd have offered anyway — or, more accurately, he'd have pointed out buildings of note and interest on their way to the invincible regardless; and he'd inevitably mention that despite beacon being a creepy death town, there's a stall in the village manned by an adorable crab spirit serving ice cream.
but then she asks about somewhere to change, and he pauses. ]
—First? [ he repeats, a small silence bookending the question as his attention shifts from hermione to their surroundings and then back to hermione. whilst he's no stranger to awkwardly changing his clothes in, quite literally, any situation, he's not about to suggest that she dive behind a bush. ] If you need a change of clothes, [ he eyes the small, beaded bag briefly before mentally deciding that given everything, he's not going to make any assumptions about whether she does or doesn't ], there's a store in the square. [ beat. ] If you don't—.
[ oh god, why put him on the spot like this? ] —The closest building to change comfortably is the Invincible — and it's got spare rooms.
no subject
So perhaps the tour is first, then the change of clothes, and then a drink?
[ to be practical, anyway. it doesn't make much sense to go all the way to the invincible just to change, leave for a tour, and then come back again. they'd likely double up on steps in that order, and she imagines peter might be a little tired after a long afternoon of heroic crate rescuing. ]
no subject
[ a kid is what he wants to say, but there's no easy way to lead on from that, to say: apparently, she was seventeen when she died and came to beacon. she's been here for twenty years, so she's technically closer to forty, but she still sounds like she's in high school and yes, she controls our fate.
(they can come back to that.)
the walk into the square doesn't take long and there's not a lot to see on the way - the bonfire's more or less the central point, with the rest of the town (quote unquote, loose definition) spilling out from there. they pass the church first (non-denominational, by the way, he'll say, with an impenetrable trapdoor from which anyone who (re)dies in beacon will emerge once they've been revived. it's morbid, it's creepy, but it is a super creepy death town, so what were they expecting?)
after the church is the post office and the general store — bothe former is manned by a spirit (who like shiny things, peter will explain with a shrug, before adding that the spirits communicate musically, and ocarinas can be found in the store if hermione wants to learn — and despite its name, the latter isn't so much a store as a storage hub of groceries and supplies.
in other words: no payment necessary, which would be way more refreshing if it wasn't a creepy death town.)
finally, before they reach the invincible, peter will point out the town hall: not to emphasise the creepy thing too much (but it really is, okay, it really is), he'll skirt around the subject of the super weird and not at all ominous busts that line the walls of the town hall and instead mention that it holds the current history of beacon. no, not the history, just the current history, of the current residents, and yes, did he mention beacon's actually kind of unsettling? sorry, hermione. ]
—There's a bridge just past the bonfire, which leads into the village. It has a [ he holds up a finger ] library, [ second finger: ] a gym, [ third finger ] a park, and an ice cream stand.
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but, eventually, he is blessedly put off his immediate role as docent and tablet guide dictation specialist by their arrival at the invincible. more specifically, by their arrival to the space adjacent to public restrooms, where hermione can slip away for a moment (after a courteous, if not a little bemused, thank you for the tour) into one of the rooms, the door shutting snug behind her.
only then does she pull her handbag out, settling it on the edge of the sink while she splashes a little cool water on her face, trying to clear the dirt and muck from the ferry and the lake water and merlin only knows what kind of sleep from her skin — and then, apparently, only for the bag to tumble down, the echo like a cargo hold's contents all shook up by a hurricane loud and clear even through the closed door, hermione's exasperated cry of oh, honestly ringing out a moment later.
luckily, she is still a witch, and she can still summon just fine, even if light seems to be beyond her at the moment.
it's with a mildly embarrassed grimace (no one likes to admit they've spent that long in the loo, even if... not for that reason) that hermione steps out a minute or so later, now clad in casual attire of jeans and a jumper, pale lilac and miraculously still warm and clean. small miracles. ]
So. I was promised tea?
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(though — papyrus? really? that's the font they went with? an alien planet in the middle of — okay, maybe not the middle, but somewhere in the universe — and they went with papyrus?
at least, maybe, it wasn't helvetica.)
his eyebrows knit together when he hears that oh, honestly from through the door and he eyes it, cautiously, the question of are you okay in there on the tip of his tongue and ready to be asked if she takes an extended amount of time getting changed.
but then she emerges in an outfit that somehow manages to be the very opposite of what she'd gone in wearing, and peter glances pointedly from her bag to her and back to her bag. ]
I'd ask, but we can probably just skip straight to the answer of: it's magic. [ he admits, and it's accompanied by the thought of: man, that'd save him carrying around rucksacks, and webbing them to walls and ledges and just behind skylights; of forgetting that he's left a rucksack on the ceiling of that one apartment building — the one with gary, probably, who always manages to hear something but never actually sees anything, so what are you doing, gary?
or it'd save him a small fortune on sewing kits, because it turns out that good thread adds up way more quickly than you'd think, and needles — he hates needles. all needles.
—eh, who's he kidding, he'd still sit there with a needle and thread. magic is one of those things that he just doesn't get and will probably never get, but that's why they had the stephen stranges of the world (universe. multiverse.). there's a part of him, too, that hates it just a little bit, but that also doesn't mean he doesn't find it a little bit fascinating.
what he asks though, is: ] —Earl Grey?
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[ that, at least, is easy enough. it is magic, and his assumption is well-spotted, but that doesn't mean she won't elaborate. or that her continued explanation isn't the slightest bit self-satisfied, a small victory amidst the crushing defeat that is her supposed death via apparition. ]
An Undetectable Extension Charm. They're, mm, rather tricky — but I think it's held up alright, all things considered. Loads in there, anyway, and the weight hasn't changed, so that part's right.
[ she's still not certain if it's meant to sound quite so full, but without the expertise of someone more knowledgable to inquire on (she misses you, professor mcgonagall) hermione can only assume. it sounds quite like a heavy freight settled on a cargo ship, absurdly heavy, as she lifts it up for him to get a better look. not to take from her hand — not yet, anyway — but to see.
and as for his question? well. ] Honestly, I prefer Irish Breakfast, but Earl Grey is fine in a pinch.