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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( you know, he's seen just enough queer things since comin' here that he doesn't even question why five might be sayin' that. maybe he's some sort of magical. he's certainly tougher than your average kid, that much gene already knows. )

Reckon so.

( it's mildly said. he takes more pride than the lord might strictly like in bein' a paratrooper, an' fort benning was a proving grounds he was glad of. war's leaned him up some, an' december'd been hell on hot meals an' adequate rationing, but he ain't in terrible shape.

he doesn't need much prep time. git on up an' go is a tenet he's lived by these last few years, so he just grabs his pack with a ready canteen an' a fair amount of his gear and hefts it high on his shoulders. )

Where we headed?

[ five doesn't exactly walk slowly -- not obviously so, anyway -- but he doesn't walk too quickly either. enough that he's neither quite waiting for eugene nor entirely brushing him off; easy enough to catch up to, especially with eugene's longer legs. ]

Into the woods, like you thought. I haven't taken a look around there yet. [ ... ] Have you?

( an' he keeps pace easy enough. matches him, an' doesn't push past that. it's easy to fall into cadence beside another soul, marchin' in step. )

None too deep, but I've done some lookin' around. Ain't about to push my luck solo, is all.

( he ain't about to be the fool an' get himself killed. regardless of whether or not folk come back, he wouldn't put that burden on wade without one helluva cause. )

Then I guess we'll be pushing our luck together.

[ he sounds surprisingly upbeat about it; something like the wry humor of resignation, or maybe just gallows humor. he's still -- at ends, grasping for purpose. there's no apocalypse to prevent here, no siblings to save. all of that's gone beyond reach. investigating the mystery of this place is something he may as well do. ]

From what I hear, it could be worse.

[ according to that speech from winters, anyway. ]

( there ain't a trace of upset to his tone, though he ain't quite as upbeat as five manages — )

Everythin' could always be worse.

( his whole life's been a matter of hopin' for the best an' expectin' the worst besides. gene's learned not to trouble himself about the little things. death had his number, an' now he's here, an' life, apparently, goes on. )

What about you? ( a bit of a sideways glance. he doesn't much want to push or pry, but. he figures five can be vague about it, or tell him off if he ain't about the tellin'. ) You're takin' this all in awful well.

[ five doesn't exactly falter at the question, not so much as maybe slow for the space of a step; blink-and-you-miss-it. then he's still walking, answers without looking back to eugene. ]

This isn't the first dead world I've ever seen. [ an admission; but maybe it doesn't have to be, if he doesn't let it sound like one, slides his hands back into his pockets like it's nothing. ] And the last one was worse.

[ could sound like a hasty call, when they've only been here -- hard to say. not too long. but there are roofs and beds, fellows stuck here as well, a so-called guide or two. a store with supplies, real food. no dead loved ones waiting for him, questions unspoken (why weren't you there?).

everything could always be worse. ]

Besides, [ brisk, now ] self-pity isn't going to get us anywhere. I assume you agree.

( worse. christ. an' him bein' so much younger than robbie, who with any luck is back home an' still ignorant about his death. no wonder he's ages old. gene is silent for a long spell, not on account'a any awkwardness, just. there's a sharp, sudden uptick in that long-quiescent anger that's been simmerin' away in him since he saw that first dead boy just up the road from gela, killed for tryin' to steal rations from an italian soldier.

war ain't kind to the world, but it's the young that suffer the most for it. finally, steppin' over a downed branch with a deliberate sort of easy calm that keeps his step from bein' too loud, )

I surely do.

( but it don't mean he's gotta swallow the injustice of it. )

But whatever you dealt with, reckon it didn't come with you here. Might not be a bad idea to put it down a spell.

( that burden, the one he's haulin' around like a tangible thing. an' maybe he's oversteppin' his bounds here, but maybe he ain't an' someone ought to say it anyhow. )

[ five doesn't step as lightly in the woods as eugene, which isn't altogether surprising. he has less experience with the outdoors -- with nature, green and lush. five survived in the skeleton of a recently dead city, before that was never a child allowed to roam free or climb trees. wilderness skills were occasionally relevant to commission work, but not overly so. he was able to get by -- more than -- with his other skills.

the silence goes on long enough that he has to wonder if eugene will answer at all, if he has regrets about offering to come along. but the guy has yet to turn around, so there's that. and, eventually, he does speak up.

might not be a bad idea to put it down a spell.

truth is, he wouldn't even know how. who is number five without a world to save, siblings to protect? just another commission-molded killer, nothing else left. ]

Might be, [ he says, slow, would-be patient, ] that it's none of your business.

I can respect that.

( he played his hand, an' five was decent enough about the call. he won't push, it just ain't to the soul of him. but when he steps over the next bit of bracken in the earth, keen an' careful in that way that suggests he's lookin' for tripwires, he pauses an' waits for the kid so they can walk side-by-each. this ain't st. vith. )

So, you talked to any of the fellas, Winters or Rastus or that Doc of ours about what might be out here t'all?

[ gene backs off immediately; which is to say, that there's not much point to staying angry. even less so when he changes the subject. ]

Out here? No.

[ that probably would've been a smart move, but lol. ]

I doubt Winters would've told me even if I'd asked. [ He Doesn't Like Winters ] He kept giving me the "just accept your lot" bullshit.

( he didn't talk to the man himself, but he knows a few folks what had, an' he walked past during a few conversations. he ain't one to eavesdrop, but overhearin' some things are inevitable.

reggie'd tell him he ought to have stopped and listened, politeness an' manners go out the window when information may be the difference between life or death. but then, reggie ain't here, a fact that cuts him deep an' daily. )

Ain't that sort, huh?

( he lapses back into that silence, though it ain't so long this time. then, )

You thinkin' we may be able to get back?

( he doesn't expect so, but. if five, a boy who ain't boyish at all, is going to hold on to some manner of hope gene would do everything in his power to build it up. )

Oh, sure. Creepy hellhole in eternal darkness. What's not to accept?

[ he hadn't accepted the last goddamn dead world either, come to that, even in those long decades when he had every reason to. when his powers failed him, he turned to calculations, quantum physics, held onto his memories of home like a lifeline. the eye might've been a dead end, and more or less pointless now, but its weight still pulls at his pocket.

if he's dead, then he's dead, and he deserves that. but this is no afterlife. and if there's a way here -- ]

I'm thinking doors go two ways. Finding a key won't be easy, but it won't be impossible.

[ he'll carve a way home with his bare hands if he has to; has done it before, can do it again. his brothers and sisters deserve long, peaceful lives. and the people here -- a flicker of conscience that knows there are people here who shouldn't be.

no rest for the wicked. ]

( he huffs a soft laugh. 'what's not to accept' indeed. he stops to push aside a neat wall o'greenery, holdin' it back so five can follow him past it. he ain't much of a pathfinder, though, an' so once they make it, he pulls a spool of twine outta his pocket an' ties some off in an easily-visible spot on the tree. by way of an explanation: )

You might be able to navigate your way on outta here, but I'd be lost as the night is long.

( makin' it more about him than somethin' five may take as a commentary on his shortcomings. )

An' I suppose you've got a point about doors. ( lord, how many times had he thought that about reggie? if there was just. some way. some hope. some thing he could do or promise or sacrifice to get him back. no one deserved to die like that. the same could be said for near all the folks killed by the damn s.s, but. reggie was his friend, an' gene can be selfish about it. ) What about them resets I heard mentioned?

[ it's polite of gene to hold back the greenery so five can follow, and so matter-of-fact that it manages not to set off his temper. but he still pauses, then teleports past the obstruction just because he can, emerging on gene's other side. and gene makes another correct estimation with his explanation of the twine -- keeps it about himself, keeps five from feeling in any way taken care of where it wouldn't be welcome -- so five lets it pass quietly. even if he could teleport back out of the woods, which he probably can, he wouldn't be able to take gene with him.

the question about the resets, though, earns an unpleasant laugh. ]

The resets. Yeah, I asked about those. If the town's reset, it goes back to a blank slate. Erases the work that's been done, I suppose. Just about everyone else dies, but permanently this time. The Lighthouse Keeper just leaves a few behind to welcome the next group.

( lordy. that will always be just the slightest bit uncanny to him, though he swallows it down. seein' the dead is likely just as strange to some, but it stands to reaffirm what he's known since they first met. that five, whatever else he is, ain't a normal boy in any respect.

bein' able to teleport is a thing that would be sore abused by the wrong masters. there's a reason the hicks family's kept their secret so well, so long. )

So... then I guess that begs the question, what's the impetus?

[ not as though gene could possibly know that it already has been. isn't that one of the reasons the commission had approached him? that ability to jump through time, through space, those consummate survival skills. all of which could be, was, honed towards killing. ]

Whatever it is, no one's telling. For now, anyway.

( they stumbled around in the dark for a bit and five probably teleported away like an asshole. it's beginning to look a lot like christmas... )

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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>handwaved