logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: JULY

INTRO LOG: JULY

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: july 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. winters, will, and rastus introduce themselves and explain the situation.
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.

•••
Winters and Will are waiting for you on the beach. Winters flags you down from where he's standing atop a large rock, surveying the gathering crowd. Will stands next to him, though he's monkeying with his tablet and looks rather bored. He barely looks up as Winters speaks:

"First thing's first: I'm sorry you're here. There's no easy way to break this news, so let's just get it over with, hm? You're dead. Or, ah, you've died. Call this the afterlife if you want, or don't if that ain't your thing, but point is, you're here 'cause you died. Those are the facts.

This world's dead, too. You've noticed by now it's pretty dark, yeah? That's 'cause there's no life here, not anymore. And that lantern you've got? That's your life, so to speak. The flame goes out, you die, and vice versa. Keep it close. Should be easy enough to remember on account of how the sun don't rise. You'll need something to see by.

This place is called Beacon, and that's Lake Red Jacket. Town's 'bout a mile down the road, and we've got a bonfire there, but that's the only other light you'll see in this place. Save for the moon and all, though the sky won't do you much good out in the woods. I'll let Rastus explain the bonfire to y'all.

Ah, right. I'm Ben Winters—Winters'll do—and this here's Will Ingr— What? For christ's sake, Dr. Will Ingram. Likes to think he's the brains of the operation, as you can see. If you've got questions about these tablets, he's your guy. Rastus tends to the fire, and you'll find him in town. He's married to his job in a way. And you may never've seen a person like him back wherever you came from, but don't make a big fuss over it. He's a nice fellow. Mind your manners.

The three of us are leftovers from past resets. We came here on that ferry just like you, but it's just us left now. 'Sides the Lighthouse Keeper, but it'll be a bit before you get to meet her. She's got control over the town, see, and if she ain't satisfied with a group's performance, they get the axe. Town gets reset. If she pulls a reset on you folks, a couple of you might end up like me and Will here, giving this speech to the next crop."

The red beam of the lighthouse pulses over the group, over the trees. Winters glances up to watch it swing out over the bay.

"But don't hold it against her. Ain't her fault we're in this mess, and we've all got a job to do, including you.

For now, concentrate on accepting your lot, yeah? We're here to answer your questions, but we ain't gonna tell you all there is to know just yet. Some things are best learned on your own, and some of it we just don't want to saddle you with yet. There's a limit to how long we can stay here safely, that's true, but thing is, we do got time. Time enough to play this smart. Do better than the folks before us did. Settle in, make peace, explore a bit if you're up for it. Use these first couple weeks to come to grips. You ain't gonna be any good to the town if you don't sort yourself out before worrying about what comes next.

So listen up: You're dead. You died. Whatever your old life was, it's done now. None of us can go back, so all we've got is forward. Welcome to Beacon. Could be worse, yeah?"

ooc.

Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to In the Night! For this intro log, all three NPCs will be available for chatting with, whether your character wants to make casual conversation or ask questions about all this. The headers on each NPC toplevel are there for easy reference as to what each of them are responsible for, but you're welcome to go to any NPC for whatever reason. You're welcome to assume your character has overheard any NPC conversation to learn more about the game. After the NPC threads have died down, we'll compile the info learned ICly and add it to the game history page. If your character would contribute something specific to the game history records, let us know!

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

The monthly store restock

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Uniform, [ peter half-corrects; it's followed by a breath of silence and peter briefly eyes five — weighing his options — before lifting a shoulder in a loose shrug. ] —And sure, maybe. [ waves a hand dismissively, then: ] But look, if you think I'm going to try and stop you, then you're — completely wrong, actually. [ but regardless of what five might want, he's also not interested in letting five (or anyone, even-and-especially if they're grouchy middle-aged men, jesus) dive head first into something they might end up regretting.

(that's his job, js.) ] I mean, I'm not normally one to pass up the chance to say 'I told you so'...

[ he actually stops and looks up, specifically so he can look directly at peter with an expression that suggests what he thinks of that outfit being a uniform. ]

Edited 2019-07-06 20:11 (UTC)

If you say so.

[ about: every part of that actually? uniform; not actually planning on stopping him; the i-told-you-soing. and then he actually stops, a thought occurring to him, looks back to the trapdoor. ]

I'm going to try something. [ since apparently peter isn't planning on leaving. he pulls the bag strap off his shoulder, holds the whole thing out expectantly ] Hold this, will you?

[ muttering: ] Yeah, yeah, everyone's a critic. [ whatever, kid; still, when five holds out the bag, there's a pause, one that suggests that peter was definitely going to say something and it's not the next noise out of his mouth, which manages to be: ]

Uh— [ his hands go up, open, empty and palms facing outwards — he's not not going to take the bag, but before he gets to that— ]

Look, I don't mean this in a condescending way right now, but just so we're on the same page: unless appearances are very deceptive — which they totally could be, I know a guy with the proportional strength of an ant, so whatever you're about to do, if it doesn't involve that—

[ his attention shifts to the trapdoor, and he waves a hand towards it. ] I can probably open that.

[ five shrugs, carefully depositing his bag on the ground. why won't people just be human coat racks for him; it'd make his life so much easier. he's only half-listening, really, to peter's answer, looking back over to the trapdoor. truthfully, the real surprise -- even to himself -- is that he didn't think to try this sooner.

first he says, ]

If this doesn't work, you can give it a try.

[ but with the air of not actually expecting that to happen. he could just explain that, as peter's suspecting, he's about to try using superhuman powers. he could; he doesn't. instead, reality seems to ripple around him as he pushes himself through space, disappearing, and --

-- reappears standing on the trapdoor, looking baffled. ]

What the shit.

[ if what doesn't work? is the question on the tip of peter's tongue, only marginally answered when five disappears and— ]

—Woah, wai—

[ CHILD IT COULD BE DANGEROUS. ]

[ oh, okay, it doesn't work. that's— actually a little bit of a letdown, but in spite of that, peter's body language immediately relaxes and he glances up at the ceiling for a moment, fingers tapping against his leg: five's a mutant then. that was what kurt had said, wasn't it? most people capable of teleportation were mutants, and also something about leben- legen- some night.

huh. ]

So. I'm guessing that's not normally how that works? I mean, it's great as a neat little party trick for when you're too lazy to grab the remote from the other end of the sofa, but— [ he comments, as he circles the trapdoor; a breath of a pause and his attention shifts back to the ceiling, and then the church walls, then back to five.

he's got two options, he supposes: try and open the trapdoor like a normal trapdoor. he's not experienced anything more than a low grade, constantly burgeoning mild headache which tells him something isn't right here, in beacon, but also could just be telling him that, like, he just needs to be careful of that pew with the slightly wonky dimensions in case he stubs his toe. in other words: the trapdoor could totally be fine, but it is called a trapdoor, it's right there, in the name: trap.

—and peter's recklessly opened doors and pressed buttons and broken windows enough times that he's learnt, slowly, that sometimes it's better to be cautious.

(mostly when there's no immediate and obvious threat of death and-or bodily harm, or both.) ] —Hey, have you ever encountered that before? Could be a forcefield— [ he mumbles, half to himself and half to five. (like the one around central park? ugh ugh uuuugh, parker, your (un)life sucks—). regardless, he doesn't bother to wait for a response to the question before he holds a hand up and out towards five. ]

—You're going to need to step off the trapdoor.

Edited 2019-07-07 10:05 (UTC)

No, that's not how it normally works --

[ snapped, irritated, but his temper quiets just as swiftly as it'd flared. because this is weird as hell, and has never, ever happened before. five's powers aren't infinite; there are only so many jumps he can make in a short period before he runs out, needs to give them a rest. his time travel's even worse, has only ever managed to be a one way trip. he's familiar with his power not working. but he's never been redirected like this, made the jump and wound up somewhere other than where he's trying to go.

he blips, briefly, while peter's thinking that through as well; a second try, with the exact same result, which looks even more unimpressive when he disappears and reappears in the same spot. what the shit. ]

That shouldn't be possible.

[ which is answer enough, probably, as to if he's encountered this before or not. a forcefield? maybe. but there's never been a barrier so strong he couldn't bend space and circumvent it entirely.

ignoring peter's hand, he teleports off the trapdoor -- just back to where he started, a foot or two off from the door. to be rude, to be sure his powers still work, or because he doesn't want to walk? a little of all three, probably. ]

A door with that kind of advanced shielding isn't going to be easily breakable.

[ which is his assumption of what peter's going to try. crosses his arms, frowning. ]

[ peter makes a noise that's part agreement, part acknowledgement; something that's loosely approximated as mmn— ] —No, [ he concedes, with a quick glance back towards five. he's not surprised that five's move; he's also not surprised that five teleported again — because honestly, if peter had that ability? he would totally use it for short distances. (it would have made his work commute so much easier. no metrocard to pay for, no webfluid to run out of—)

he shrugs once before crawling halfway up a wall, pausing momentarily to remark: ] Honestly, after whatever that was, I'm fully prepared for this not to work, [ he admits, holding up a hand. (a beat; thwip.) ] But let's just go with: one, this normally works; two, performance-related anxiety is perfectly normal and— [ peter just pulls at the webline currently stuck to the trapdoor.

and pulls.

and—

hnng. ]

—gh!

[ it doesn't work. there's an AAAAAAH that peter wants to yell because, seriously? seriously? it's a trapdoor it should totally open. it's not like it's—

—fine, whatever, who is he kidding. it could totally be magic (and where is doc strange when you need him?) or it could totally be some kind of fuckery thanks to arcade and god—

he drops his head for a second, before jumping down to the floor. ] I would say that was embarrassing, but that actually doesn't even hit top 25, let alone top 10.

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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