logsinthenight | 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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

⟪ This, too, screams Asshai'i – her own eyes had become more sensitive to the light, but then, her habit of staring into the fire fixed the issue soon enough. That seems to be an undue solution to suggest, so instead, she carefully picks up the strange contraption the girl had half-lost when she had found her, and carefully aids her in putting them back on. ⟫

Forgive me, I did not think you would need them so direly.

⟪ The black veins, she has noticed, of course, and the greyish tone to her skin –– but then, Melisandre herself is paler than natural, too. Nothing to judge her for. ⟫

I will not force you – ⟪ and she no longer has a hand on the girl's shoulder, no longer is she holding her down ⟫ – but until we can be sure you are fine, it may be best if you did not move with too much haste. Will you tell me your name?

[ Once the glasses are back on, she slowly opens her eyes, blinking blearily. Her first thought is: wow this whole place is red. She could have sworn there wasn't this much red shit in the general store, but she supposes now she knows why. ]

Oh uh, it-it's fine. Thanks for helping out.

[ Wow, the lady's super red too. She fidgets slightly as Melisandre continues to speak, adjusting the scarf covering the lower half of her face. ]

Y-yeah. That's fine. My head still hurts anyways. [ Though the pain is fading now. ] And I'm Coraline... You?

Coraline. ⟪ Her accent shines through, as it does at all times – rolling and lilting, but she tries her best. ⟫ I am called Melisandre. And it is no matter, I did not wish to leave you lying there.

⟪ She may have developed some unseen fondness for whatever lived below the church, but that does not mean a person should be where she usually leaves her offerings. That would be quite the sacrilege - sacrifices are for R'hllor only. ⟫

Would you like some water? ⟪ It's an open question – being herself a person who habitually needs neither drink nor food, she wouldn't be surprised if she isn't the only one with these gifts here. ⟫

[ Through the fading haze of pain, Coraline can’t help but feel that she’s meeting with someone… divine. Ish. The whole monochrome scheme, unknown accent, and the fact they were in a church is ~~definitely~~ probably the cause. That and the fact she had just passed out. Still, that this “feeling” could hold truth just made her head hurt more, though in a metaphorical sense. This place was absolutely insane. Like there were rumors of Gods pulling shit back where she was from, but they were just that. Rumors…

Oh. She was being spoken to.

Coraline blinked for a moment before the words finally processed in her brain. ]

Oh uh. Yeah. Sure… Please.

⟪ Melisandre stands and returns quickly enough with a glass of water, aiding the girl in sitting up if need be. ⟫

'Tis the encounter with the trapdoor which did this to you?

[ She sits up with the aid of Melisandre and sips the water gratefully, soothed by the familiar action more than the hydration. Indeed, she downs the whole glass before talking again, using that time to come up with a reasonable excuse. ]

Uh… I don’t remember… sorry.

Well enough. I have lived here this entire time and not caught as much as a glimpse, apparently, one likes their privacy.

⦑ She sounds good-natured enough about it, though she is wondering what this girl has done to cause such a stir –– but then, perhaps it's simply been the number of visitors. ⦒

Are you still aching?

Wait… so there is someone down there?

[ She says, staring for a moment. She hasn’t felt anyone down there, or any signs of life really. But it’d make sense if it’s just a hallway to somewhere else. Who the fuck is living there though?

She’s taken out of her thoughts by Melisandre asking about her pain. ]

Oh uh… I think I’m fine now. Thank you.

INTRO LOG: JULY

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