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

"Yeah," comes the quick reply. "Boardwalk's pretty slick."

Which is just an excuse, but it's a convenient one here by the water. He thinks to look for his lantern as he sits up and straightens himself out, and finds it thankfully stopped short of the water by the young man's quick efforts. Close call, he'd almost lost it, and what then?

"Thanks," he says as he reaches to reclaim it and set it upright on the ground beside him, then picks up the pile of blankets as he stands and hands them back.

"You camping out here?"

Riku doesn't address the excuse, instead taking it for something to spare his dignity. He does open his mouth to protest when the blankets are gathered up - but it seems one good turn warrants another, so he withholds any protest in favor of accepting back his burden with a grateful nod.

"Guess you could say that," he admits, lantern swinging from where it hangs from his belt loop by one hip as he turns. Its light scatters shadows across the boardwalk, setting the dark water to glittering where its meager light reaches.

"We lived on an island," Riku explains, "If you're looking for the ferry, it's already gone."

"I'm not. Just out having a look at the water." He thinks a lot about that water. What might be out there, what might lurk underneath. How to cross it. Sometimes it's just the closest thing to comfort he can find.

"I don't suppose you've found anything like a boat out here?" he asks, expecting the answer to be know. He's looked; he's asked Winters. There are no boats, the man had said, but he doesn't entirely trust anyone out here not to lie to suit their own purposes. Sit tight, settle in, wait - all things he's been told to do and all things he's not very interested in doing.

"Not yet," Riku answers, seeing little point to keeping secret what will likely in a few weeks become a fairly obvious project, "We're starting work on one. Between the three of us and the limited tools? It's gonna take months."

He doesn't sound discouraged. Rather, in spite of his reserved expression, there's something about his eyes that suggests he welcomes the challenge, or at least a complicated project to occupy himself with.

Then again, people all deal with their new reality in varying ways.

"Just curious? Or do you know anything about them?"

His eyes practically light up at that announcement. Building a boat? Thank the gods, he's found shipwrights. Check that off the to-do list. The little question at the end there makes him chuckle, too. Does he know anything about them? Does he breathe?

"I'd been hoping I would find someone who knows about how to build a boat! I've been sailing them all my life, through some of the most dangerous seas in my world. I'd say I know a few things about them."

For the first time since arriving he grins, genuine and relieved, and holds out a hand. "Commander Rosinante Donquixote. Marines."

It may come as a disappointment to realize that these three kids from the Destiny Islands aren't shipwrights so much as people raised to know how to build small rowboats, rafts, and other sea-faring crafts. Nothing like the grand ships he might be used to. Just as the other man's eyes light up at their latest project, Riku's interest sharpens at the serendipity that is finding someone who not only knows how to navigate, but through dangerous waters, too.

That is lucky.

Grins like that prove infectious, even Riku begins to smile in return, still surprised by this turn of luck as he pauses, then takes the offered hand to shake.

"Riku."

A commander... he withdraws his hand, cupping his chin with it as he explains, "We just don't have what we need to make anything bigger than a two seater rowboat at best, though, and even that'll take months to build. It'll be a while before we can use skills like yours."

"That's perfectly fine! I wasn't expecting a warship. There's plenty you can achieve with a humble sailing dinghy." Having just spent most of the last six months on the run across all of North Blue in a tiny lifeboat, he's not exactly bothered. The prospect of anything at all is a thrilling change.

"Count me in for whatever you need. I'm just looking forward to getting out there. I'll split wood all day if that's what it takes."

"With the forest, wood won't really be a problem, it's treating and shaping it for what we need. Thanks for the offer," Riku says, lifting a hand to motion it at the dark silhouettes of treetops surrounding the harbor, "We can use all the help we can get."

Rosinante, was it?

Riku's already half-forgotten, worse at these pleasantries than the far more conscientious Kairi, but he'll be sure to mention him to... well, someone he's already met, technically. Sora has a habit of meeting practically everyone wherever he goes.

"We haven't been able to find much sandpaper, even a woodplane would help a lot, but..."

"Well, we do have plenty of sand. And a woodplane's a pretty simple tool, maybe someone knows how to make one. Otherwise, paper, glue, and sand might work." A big might, but people have been building boats since the dawn of time as far as he knows. It should be possible to make something functional with the very basics.

"I'll be gone for a couple days coming up here. Planning some trips with a few other people to search the area. When I get back, I'll come find you guys, all right? Put me to work."

"Sounds like a deal."

And sound advice. Riku had attempted making sandpaper, but the paper wasn't sturdy enough, and the glue in too precious little supply. There are numerous challenges without modern conveniences, but all it takes is time to overcome and... since they're dead, they've got all the time in the world.

At least, provided they don't get reset.

"Good luck, I hope you find something worth your while," Riku says, appreciating that pull of the unknown. He would be looking for those opportunities himself, were he not already preoccupied with preparations of his own.

INTRO LOG: JULY

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