INTRO LOG: JULY

[inthenightmods]

INTRO LOG: JULY
IT'S HAPPENING AGAIN

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

QUICKNAV
comms	|	network • logs • memes • ooc
pages	|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Comments

gene hicks | ota!

[preseance]

 just being neighborly;

( if you've claimed a room, you might find this fella knockin' at your door at some reasonable hour or other. he's balancin' a plate on one hand, enough food there for a couple folks or so. given the roommate situation, he ain't takin' any chances with folks bein' underfed. )

Hey, if'n you're hungry I got somethin' out here for you. I can leave it at the door if you ain't of a mind to open it.

( no hard feelin's one way or another, gene knows how it goes. everyone deals differently when death's abound, an' he won't take it the least personal if folk tell him to leave. )

 jesus was a carpenter, wasn't he?

( gene can be found amidst a pile of broken-down dressers. he's bein' real careful-like as he takes them apart, an' any wood he thinks might be useful is consigned to a neat little pile of it. he's stripped to just a tank-top an' his usual jump pants for this an' is awful sweaty besides, a sure sign he's been at it a while.

if he knows your character, he'll give them a nod an' a polite greeting. if he don't, he'll do the same an' may ask their name. either way: )

Hey, if it ain't no trouble, y'mind holdin' this for me while I hammer this piece on down?

  it's fun to stay at the y-m-c-a

( near first thing he'd done was set up a tent. you learn that the hard way, you dig in an' you hold onto hopin' that a shell ain't gonna blow your ass sideways. but, much as the soldierin' part of him wants to be out an' away from all the rest of the folks, he can't help but notice there's a need of him in the invincible, too.

he maintains the tent outta habit. place to go if he needs it, an' a shelter to anyone else who might be headin' out towards the woods. you can find him there without too much fuss, an' he'll greet your character peaceably enough. )

If you're goin' off into the woods, mind if I tag along?

( a gesture to his medic's bag, slung over one shoulder as explanation. he an' irwin are about equally as keen on lettin' folks go off alone, which is to say they ain't. )

  ooc blurberoo

( I'm happy to continue any of my tdm threads, or to continue them over here if you'd like! i'm also chill handwaving out the rest if anyone would rather focus on newer things.

you can reach me on vitarays if that's more your speed for any plotting/shenanigans/etc. )

[originallutece]

[The woman who answers the door is odd, albeit in some subtle ways. Her dress is what some might consider modern, all pencil skirt and suit jacket, masculine and feminine all in one. But the short, sharp line of her waist suggests something more archaic is serving as underwear, because she might have had to give up her skirts, but like hell she's giving up her corset.

Odd, too: the suspicion in her gaze. It's as if Gene's trying to sell something; she stares up at him coolly, focuses down on the plate in his hands, and then back up at him.]

I believe you have the wrong door.

[preseance]

( that she's prickly don't bother none, gene just ducks his head in a polite nod, takin' in her appearance as he does. the dichotomy to her dress is noted but sure don't merit comment, it almost reminds him of his ma.

the look on her face sure ain't, but. it's the little things. )

No ma'am. I ain't lookin' for anyone in particular, just checkin' up on folks an' seein' if they've any needs I can see to.

( it ain't just about the food. he ain't seen anyone injured, yet, but a lot of evidence of old wounds, an' it don't hurt to ask around, or at least get folks to a point where they know there's a fella with medical training around for assistance's sake. gene taps his free hand down against his medical bag. )

I'm a medic. Gene Hicks. Food's just me bein' neighborly.

( he's southern. it shows. )

[originallutece]

How kind.

[Her voice is a bit dry, but only because she's trying to understand what kind of person dies and still focuses on others.

Hm.]

. . . thank you, then.

[She takes the food, so one point to Gene. And then:]

And when did you die, Mr. Hicks? What year?

prompt D: it's free real estate

[sulfa]

[ rather ironically, gene stands out in his olive drab; he's easy to spot as he walks through the square simply by virtue of the fact that nobody else save for irwin himself is dressed as deliberately blandly. there also aren't that many people to differentiate him from - a substantial portion of beacon's new population seems to still be asleep. there's work to be done, though, and even without the natural cue of sunlight gradually filling his sleeping quarters wade had woken up early without much trouble, as had been usual for him up until his death.

after briefly asking around, it had quickly become apparent that there don't seem to be any medical facilities here at all, but there is genuine danger of injury or death. there also doesn't seem to be anyone else with medical experience, as far as wade can tell, so that leaves two of them and ballpark fifty others, which, compared to the numbers they were looking at during their time alive, is a pretty good ratio - but if something catastrophic happens, that's still a lot of beds. ]

Gene. [ he barely raises his voice when he approaches the man, but it's presumably loud enough to be heard from a few feet away. ] We need to find somewhere to set up. You seen what the situation is in the church yet? Thinking that might be a good place on account of the pews, if they're intact.

free for the taking!! ... does this make them pirates. church pirates??

[preseance]

( irwin gets a nod of greeting, gene's already lightin' up a cigarette for them to share on his approach. )

They mostly are. Did that recon earlier.

( ain't like he can say 'earlier in the day'. his watch ain't working, an' time doesn't seem to hold much meanin' here. he knows he needs to watch for that in himself. losin' track of time. sure way to wind up goin' crazy if he ain't careful. he takes that first lungful of smoke off the cigarette and then passes it over to wade unasked. )

Wouldn't be a bad place for it. Buildin's fair solid, good stonework an' it wouldn't burn easy. Roof's pitched at a good angle.

( it's unlikely this place'd see a shellin', but it's how he's come to think an' he can't shake it so easy. certain angles are more susceptible than others to incoming artillery. not much, but enough to mitigate the damage sometime. Duds can just bounce off rather'n fall through on momentum alone. )

it makes them hermit crabs

[sulfa]

[ wade would be lying if he were to say that the same thoughts hadn't briefly crossed his mind; he catches gene's drift easily enough as he listens, inhaling slowly before handing the cigarette back. it's a nice gesture, especially given that gene must know by now that this is all they have. ]

Noticed that too. Good lighting from the altar candles, and we could probably light most of it with a few torches. Vestry could be an exam room, maybe an operating room if it comes to that. [ which it hopefully won't - but just like the risk of shelling, the possibility of traumatic injury is always on his mind. ]

There are enough blankets left in the general store to pad some of the pews, and I've asked Rastus about some of the basics. Penicillin, sulfonamides, morphine, that sort of thing. [ a pause. ] No cigarettes coming in until next month... what we have is what we have. [ that statement of the obvious meaning: irwin knows he's going to need to start tapering himself off at a much steeper rate than he would like if he wants to remain relatively functional once supplies run out, and presumably so will gene. ]

[ordinaryannie]

[Annie eyes Gene and his pile of disassembled dressers with some bemusement - carpentry projects would not be high on her list of activities for the first days in an alternate dimension that may or may not be the afterlife, that's for certain - but after a second, she rolls one shoulder in a careful shrug, and jogs the few yards of space between them.

She grips the piece he'd indicated, placing her hands carefully to avoid any splinters. Maybe-dead or no, those are no fun for anyone. (Would that be adding insult to injury, or injury to insult?)]

Sure thing. What are you building?

[preseance]

Ma'am.

( he gives her a nod, appreciative of the approach an' of her help besides. )

Couple things.

( he knows that ain't the full answer, but he waits until she's in position an' holding the board before he adds the next bit, )

This'll be a set of crutches when I'm done. ( the tools ain't the best, but he's a fair hand anyhow, an' experience makes the doin' easier. ) Me an' another fella — medics both, mind — are puttin' a clinic together for any injuries. Figured there's a few things, standard mostly, we ought'a have on hand.

[ordinaryannie]

[She winces a little at the thought of just how easy it would be to break something out in the dark, be it through absence of caution or simple bad luck. One wrong step in the wrong spot, and that's that.]

That'll come in handy, once people start getting restless.

y m c a!

[fogey]

[ it'd be a lie to say five hadn't noticed gene -- of course he had, first the tent, and then the familiar face. the kid had even mentioned setting up a tent, hadn't he, and christ he hadn't been kidding. he'd just happened to be passing by, really, walking across the bonfire square instead of teleporting, hadn't intended to stop before he was spoken to.

he pauses long enough to give the suggestion a moment's thought, at least. ]

Are you expecting me to need a medic, Eugene?

[preseance]

( he'd be lyin' if he said the boy weren't on his mind some. like a puzzle he can't divine, or a language he can't parse. he inclines his head anyhow, half a greetin'. )

I don't rightly know, Five. But it'd be awful remiss of me not to offer.

( danger ain't a scare to him. not bein' there when the danger strikes, or bein' useless besides — that's the fear. he knows he can't be everywhere, but he an' irwin have an agreement that ain't a soul should go off adventurin' without at least a one of 'em. an' maybe they'll refuse an' that's their right, but. at least the offer ought'a be made. )

[fogey]

[ that's the right answer, as much as there's ever one with five. imply he's unable, or too young, and he'd get angry right away. which is maybe hypocritical, given the circumstances; avoiding medical treatment is literally what got him killed.

he's carrying a pack himself, filled with a few supplies from the store, and with his lantern strapped to it. probably the giveaway that he was thinking about the woods in the first place.

five turns the offer over in his mind, then shrugs, starts to continue walking on his way. ]

As long as you can keep up.

[ of course, if five really wanted to shake him, he could've always just teleported away. ]

wood shop

[chardismastic]

[ At first, Rafe ignores the call for assistance. He can surely find better things to do with his time, find some angle to work, some puzzle piece that will make this all start to come together into a picture that'll make sense. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, he walks on by — maybe the general store will have something useful that he missed the first going over.

But then a thought occurs and Rafe reassesses the situation, eventually turning back around and doing as requested. His hands are careful — dead or not, like hell he wants to see how a broken finger happens here — and an appraising eye takes in what Gene's put together already. Not bad. Solid-looking at least. ]

Useful talent, [ he notes. ] You doing anything specific or just hammering the hell out of it for its own sake?

[preseance]

( can't quite place the accent, but maybe that ain't so odd here. still, the fella's friendly enough an' liberal enough with the helpin' that gene don't mind the question. in fact, it gets somethin' of a chuckle outta him. he can almost imagine reggie sayin', ain't that jesus' job? hammerin' the hell outta things? but the words sure wouldn't pass his lips. )

Well, can't say it wouldn't be a way to pass the time, but I'm buildin' somethin' specific. Need a medicine cabinet, an' the dressers won't do.

( they would in a pinch, if needs be, but he weren't about to let his hands sit idle neither. this is somethin' he can put his mind to, an' be good at that ain't mendin' up broken bones or bullet holes, an' it's a sight better than smokin' up the rest of his chesterfields. )

[chardismastic]

[ Almost everything about the situation is shit, top to bottom and back again, but. But there's a small silver lining that catches from behind all the clouds. An almost blissful sensation of not being known. It's a slow realization, coming to him in bits and pieces realizing the breadth of places people seem to have been snatched from and how few of those places have a Rafe Adler. Maybe that should be more existentially disturbing than reassuring but screw should, right. So he doesn't offer straightaway, doesn't press for answers of his own. ]

There are worse hobbies, [ he agrees easily. ] If that's what you're aiming for, guessing you know how to use what'll be inside it.

[ The guy has a rougher feel than any doctor Rafe has met and of course he's seen the olive drab pants. Feels like a fair enough guess when Rafe checks, nodding at his clothes. ] Medic?

y m c a

[jigsawn]

( whereas most have either gone to the invincible to snag a room or settled down in another area of town, billy has less immediate interest in staking his claim over a particular location (or any location, for that matter). after speaking to winters, he intends to explore beacon more and, since everything he needs fit neatly into a bag, he doesn’t need a place to store his things.

he doesn’t plan to go too far yet, but he wants to get a general lay of the land. with a mask secured to his face, he holds a military grade lantern in one hand and a torch he took from the bonfire in the other as he starts to make his way towards the woods.

he didn’t expect whoever decided to set up camp nearby to take much interest in what he’s doing. in fact, he would have preferred to be left alone, yet the inquiry stops him in his tracks all the same. he doesn’t bother to turn around, but he does angle his head towards the man. )

Yes. ( he doesn't need the company. )

[preseance]

( he ain't a bit bothered by the brusqueness, just ducks under the tent flap an' comes towards the fella. part of bein' a medic is makin' assessments between heartbeats, an' though this ain't a matter of triage it's care just the same. they can either be alone together or together alone, an' gene ain't got it in him to let folk wander off in the dark unaided.

there's somethin' about the way this fella's standin'. eerie, almost. most folks wanna face you when speakin', but between his stance an' the mask gene'd caught just enough of as he'd walked on past, he ain't quite sure what to make of him.

place takes all sorts, he supposes, an' he ain't about to judge. so. he shrugs his medical bag higher up on one shoulder, then hooks a thumb in his webbing so he can cock his elbow some. )

Well, I ain't gonna insist if you've an aversion to the company. But I'm a medic, if'n you think you'd have need of me, an' I ain't a stranger to the fraught.

[jigsawn]

( a medic — now, that piques his interest.

he has had enough training to give himself aid if he ever needs it, but for more serious injuries or afflictions, someone with more medical knowledge could come in handy. granted, he's currently less interested in befriending a medic than he is in checking to see what kind he is.

at least enough to keep him from walking off without bothering to wait for him. )

You served? ( he finally turns around to get a good look at who he's talking to, his head angling slightly. )

wildcardish but will probably go for forest exploits anyway

[voktys]

It was not my intention.

⟪ she kneels down where he sits by his tent, more essosi custom than westerosi, but she feels little pressure from him to comply to the ways of lords she doesn't belong to. the dress she wears is not the bloodied one he had seen her in before, though if he has been to the inn, he might recognise the shade of red from some of the curtains. many have accused her of falsehoods, but when it came to resourcefulness, they were ever right.

here is what she came for: she offers him a small bundle, tied with string, and when he opens it, he'll find it's a clean, new shirt, his size or closely thereabouts enough to fit, and a foldable pocket knife the likes of which she had not seen before – but she can imagine a medic finding use for it. ⟫

For your kindness.

oh mel

[preseance]

( ain't many things on god's good earth that can bring him to speechless, but that does it. gifts of any manner are a rare thing in his time. rare growin' up, rare in the war. mostly, it's a matter of sharin' a cigarette or savin' a jell-o from the mess, but. this is somethin' done just because.

he opens the package slow, careful not to rip the paper or cut the string — both have their uses intact — an' when he sees what's inside he just sort of. looks down at the bundle for a moment, fingers curlin' in the soft fabric of that shirt.

that sort'a false modesty, to insist it ain't nothin', that ain't in him. he's too honest by far to pretend ignorance to that sorta thing. but he does smile a touch. makes him seem younger than he is. )

Well... thank you, ma'am. I appreciate it mightily.

( he ain't so good with gifts on account'a just not havin' the experience in receivin' em, so he's probably a bit more awkward about that than he rightfully should be, but. it's genuine enough, for all that. )

she Tries

[voktys]

⟪ in truth, it's the cigarette which warmed her to him – closest thing to the funeral rites she could dream of getting, and these hold a great deal of importance to her. rarely does she give gifts, physical gifts, but then, this world has provided her with the opportunity, and she chose two things she thought were best used: something to clothe himself in, something he did not die in. and a knife, because what holds more uses than that?

his smile robs him of a good few years, it makes him look not a day older than devan, and a good few years younger than the other sons of davos, the ones she had sent to die at the blackwater. ⟫

You are a good man.

⟪ well, at least she is as awkward in giving as he is in receiving. ⟫

But you struck me as the kind to look out more for others than your own self.

⟪ notably, she did not think of food. she's still getting used to needing that one again. ⟫

Not that I would not appreciate your company in the woods, mind. Four eyes see more than two.

ymca

[vereor]

[ Angor will turn towards whoever addressed him, golden eyes narrowing as he eyes the human with his bag. ]

And what is in there that may be of use in there? [ He'll grumble as he nods towards the forest. He's a nine foot tall troll, who has been through some shit, so pardon him for wondering what you're offering Gene. ]

[preseance]

( he's taken a lot in stride, comin' here. death an' dyin' an' all that. magic he ain't barely blinked at. a fella in power armour just became part of the every day. folk from lifetimes after him, to whom the war was barely a footnote.

but angor gets an actual, muttered lordy, under gene's breath as he looks up. an' up at him. most things he's seen so far've been human of some coat or colour, but this is beyond the pale.

eloquently, then; )

Uh.

( his ma would've told him that he'd catch flies if he gaped like that. his recovery ain't the most graceful, but at least it's quick. )

Well, sir, I'm a medic — I ain't too keen on lettin' folks go off alone without any sort'a back-up into danger.

[vereor]

Medic? [ The word rolls off his tongue uncertainly. But he might have an idea what the other means. ]

Ah. You mean you're a healer? You wield healing magics then?

[ Have a rather dubious look as he eyes you Eugene. He doubts it, a lot. This human looks far too ordinary to be able to use magic. ] As long as you are also capable of fighting, then I guess it's fine.

[ He scoffs a little though, rolling his shoulders a little. ] There are hardly many who have survived an encounter with me, I doubt the beasts of this realm will fare any differently. You have no need to worry.