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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[This particular room is heavy with the smell of cigarette smoke through the slightly-ajar door. There's a delay after the 'hello' - Rosinante looks exhausted as he stares out the window of the room he's cramped into, with his knees curled to his chest and his shoulders bowed low just to fit. It's the change in the pattern of light, not the sound of the boy's voice, that attracts his attention and when he looks over there's an abrupt raise of eyebrows indicating he's only just noticed there's someone there.

He snaps his fingers soundlessly, then turns his blood-streaked face to his visitor.]

Hey. Sorry, if you said something, I missed it.

[Sora has been curious for as far back as any of his friends can remember. It isn't the kind of curiosity that had their little group charting expeditions to the other side of the island, or building a boat to see what new places the could discover. It didn't start things- it just kept them going. There's a kind of perpetual and self-sustaining motion inside him not because he's afraid to stop, but because once the first few questions bubble to the surface, they just keep on coming.

That's the reason he pokes his face into cracks and peers on tiptoe into half-open rooms. He doesn't have an expectation beyond that he's sure there's got to be someone else around. But in retrospect, maybe that's the problem. Maybe he should have expected that he'd find somebody else eventually. In his defense, it's not the plume of cigarette smoke that brings him up short. It's the blood-streaked face and the slow way the person inside turns to look. Sora's entire body straightens up at once. Later, this'll make a great joke: that he looks like he's seen a ghost.]

You're-! [Urgency tightens in his stomach and Sora's hand lingers on the door, where he's half in and half out.] You're hurt!

I was. I don't think I am anymore.

[But he must look absolutely frightening, judging by the look on the poor kid's face. He can't feel the burn in his chest anymore; no longer drowning in his own blood. Naturally that made it the right time for a smoke.]

Did you need something? Or better yet, do you know anything about where we are?

[Man, he'd offer the kid a seat, too, just out of basic etiquette, but this berth was not made for someone well over nine feet tall and there's not a lot of space left over. Still, he tries to scoot his feet over so there's room on the bench opposite if he does want to sit.]

We're... [It's not like he's never been in a fight before. There've been play battles waged all over the islands when they were kids and even with the best intentions some times a match would end in split knuckles or skinned knees or an ugly bruise. And then later, when the fights became more real, when the stakes were higher- He's been hurt pretty bad before. And so have his friends. There've been more close calls than he ever would have wanted, even if he doesn't take into account the knowledge that this has- that he's died twice. But that isn't really the same as preparing for this kind of gore.

This guy doesn't sound like he's in pain and he isn't moving that way either. His feet shuffle and Sora's head drops uncertainly, like he isn't sure if he's supposed to risk looking away from all the blood to track the movement. Man there's a lot of leg in here. Is this guy's room just really tiny? Why's he staying in here if it's so cramped? There's a whole-

Sora visibly fumbles and his fingertips graze the doorknob as they lower to his sides, urgency deflating from him like a leftover birthday balloon.] -On a big boat.

It's too dark to see anything yet and I dunno know any of the stars.

[Yes. On a boat. He'd noticed that comfortable sway of water, the smell of the wood and the wet. But it's so dark out the porthole, and he'd hoped the kid might have some kind of explanation beyond the one he gave. Oh well.]

So I noticed. Have you already been up on the top deck?

[How long has he been here? It's hard to tell if he's been curled up in this room with his cigarettes and silence for five minutes or a lifetime.]

[His chin dips, a bob, and Sora takes his first few steps over the threshold, as if he's only just committed to the idea of being invited in. He's never really been anyone's idea of timid or shy, and he's not sure he'd describe what he's feeling as wary. Mostly he's just trying to leave a comfortable little space between them when there isn't a whole lot to go around already.

One hand comes to rest on his hip and his head cants to the side. The reply doesn't sound like an accusation, but maybe it's owed to his easy-going nature.]

Well how else was I gonna see the stars? Or know it was too dark to see.

Windows.

[He raps the porthole at his side with the back of a knuckle.]

But up there you probably get a better view.

[So it's still helpful to confirm. But there's no way to know where they're going if it's pitch black out, especially with his compass back in that rescue boat. Probably pretty far away now. As for the stars not being recognized, well. The little glimpse he gets from here makes him agree - he doesn't know these stars either. But surely there's an explanation for that. Some Grand Line nonsense. Maybe just another sea he's less familiar with, like East Blue.

Come to think of it though, the kid doesn't sound like a Northerner.]

Maybe we can work backwards. Where were you before this boat?

[It's not the first question he's asked that's been tough to answer, it's just that this one is hard in a different way. A personal one. How does he describe it? There's the easy answer, the one he finds first-] I was in a desert.

[But it's only a half-truth, and maybe because he knows that, it's hard for the explanation to sit right. After all, he's met plenty of people already that are struggling with what it means to be here and the sense of finality that comes with it. It doesn't feel like the kind of conversation that should happen while he lingers near the exit, letting the words drift out the open door. His feet thud, a small semi-circle across the floor as he pushes the door mostly shut behind him. It means that his face is turned away when he continues, but maybe that's it's own kind of commitment.] -At first.

[When Sora turns back it leaves him standing in profile. It feels weird not to have anything to do with his hands. To just have them be empty.]

I was looking for someone. But I knew if I found her, I probably wouldn't make it back. [His head shakes.]

I know I got pretty close to death a few times. I just never come this far before. There was a whole bunch of sky everywhere, and I had a weird... feeling. And then I woke up here.

[The way he describes it all, and the way he holds himself, anxious and frightened, all suggests whatever happened to him was pretty serious. Went from close to death to here, huh? It's not too unlike what happened to himself, except that Rosinante is quite sure his own strange feeling was death sinking its cold fingers into him.

Shit, is this a rescue boat? Was this kid on Minion? Did he or Doflamingo or anyone else almost kill a kid? He peers hard at the shadowy form, trying to see if he can tell how injured he looks, but even with the lanterns, he seems mostly backlit.

Wait, no, desert. So that doesn't make sense either. He's exhausted and it's hard to make sense of things.]

No, I mean, which island? Which sea?

[Is he frightened? It's a hard feeling to describe. Sora can't say that he really confronted his own mortality, after all, he'd been warned about what was coming plenty of times and by plenty of people. And he'd been cautioned one last time right before he'd made that fateful decision.

He doesn't regret it, but it feels personal.
Sora isn't struggling with the finality of what it means to be here so much as he's trying to make his peace with everything that's crossed out now. He had enough time to say the thing he needed to say, but it wasn't as much time as he wanted- as he always thought they were going to have. He misses his friends.

Still, it's actually the next set of questions that ease the burden. When Sora's head lifts, one palm fits over the nape of his neck. It's hard to tell if it's a self-conscious gesture of just a thoughtful one.] Oh, I'm from Destiny Islands.

But I haven't been back to that world for a long time.

I don't remember seeing you along the way, so I think we're both from different worlds too. And you... [His hand falls and Sora gathers his lantern up in both arms, hugging it loosely against his stomach.]

-Did you die too?

["That world"? What does he mean, world? Rosinante has never heard of Destiny Islands, which doesn't help any, but before he can ask for clarification, the boy asks his question and Rosinante frowns.]

I'm not sure. A lot's happened recently. [He takes a draw from his cigarette, then continues.] Anyway, how can we be on a boat if we're dead?

[Like a small, portable mirror, the tall guy frowns and Sora frowns right along with him. A lot's happened recently is kindof an understatement, and while there are plenty of parts to this story that he can't figure out just yet, Sora thought he had at least this one part pinned down. That by extension, everyone else must know too.]

I figured this was the part that happens after death.

[Instead of just blinking owlishly, Sora's head turns back over one shoulder- glancing at the wood panels and the door frame and the hallway beyond.]

...But I wasn't really expecting a boat.

Nothing like any afterlife I've heard of.

[Which is to say he agrees, but also, he hadn't been certain he'd died, so who knows what to expect? But reflecting on the injuries he'd sustained, and that slow numbness from snow and blood loss, it doesn't exactly seem likely he'd survived. He'd held onto that slim possibility that this could be a rescue ship for too long already.]

Not that I thought living people would get it right, I guess. Only the dead ever really get to know. I kinda thought everything would just go black and that would be the end of it.

[It feels a little bit like being the bearer of bad news- but then, he's not sure how else it could feel. He knows he isn't responsible for the reason this guy is here, even if he might be responsible for a few of the others, it's just that it's hard not to think about the way the words land. Making his way down the hall in the first place it'd been impossible to miss the sombre expressions and far away looks, even if they'd only appeared in small handfuls.

Saying it out loud lends an air of finality to it: to what's happened, to where they are, to the unknown stretching out around them. Sora isn't afraid of what lies ahead, but it's too easy to think of what lies behind. There isn't any going back now.

His back presses to the wall and Sora uses it as a counter-weight, sinking until he's left sitting on the floor. His hands land on either side of his waist, his knees bend.]

Are you relieved then? That it's not the end.

I'm grateful.

[At least, it seems like the right thing to say. The sort of thing the kid expects him to say. In truth, he's not so sure. He'll have to face whatever comes next alone, and while he's done that plenty before, it's not pleasant. When he died, he was satisfied. He'd given everything so that another might live, and that was enough. He'd never amounted to much himself anyway.

Maybe there will be value to this second chance, if that's really what it is. He's not so dour as to discount it entirely. Maybe he can make a place in the afterlife that's comfortable for the two of them, and then wait until that sad but eventual day that Law joins him. With luck, and with whatever destiny guides the child, it will be decades away.]

There's room on the bench, you know. If you like.

[Beside his feet and across from him, where someone else would probably normally sit if he wasn't curled up in this little space by himself. It's small but cozy, all right? But he's not about to force someone to sit on the floor, either.]

[Grateful.
That's a big word. But grateful how? Grateful why? Grateful to who?

He isn't sure that it's a sentiment they share, but then it also seems like both of their feelings are more complicated than just grief. Maybe that part will come later. Already he misses the smell of salt and the way it chapped his mouth, seagulls calling while they circle overhead, and the not so far away laughter from his friends as they ran along the shore. Sora had known long before he made his decision that there wouldn't be any going back- whatever line he crossed would change things forever, for all of them. Would it be gratitude if he had someone to thank for it? It's hard to say, and maybe impossible to know now.

Still, it isn't impossible for him to find a smile- even now. Sora's head tips back until the crown meets the wall- knees tucking up until he's sitting cross-legged, both hands loose in his lap.]

Nah, it's okay. It looks like you don't have a whole lotta room as it is.

Actually- I think you're the tallest guy I've ever seen.

Yeah?

[Odd, but okay. Not much he can say to that, but it kind of feels nice to be thought of as that uniquely tall. Not something he gets often.

As his cigarette has dwindled down to the very butt end, he snuffs it out on the windowsill for lack of other options.]

When you were walking around earlier, did you notice if they've got tea or coffee?

[Even though he's never really be one for coffee and tea, Sora has enough friends that appreciate and rely on the stuff to know he's about to be the bearer of bad news. The small wince he offers is apologetic, and he reaches up with one hand to rub at the back of his neck.] There's not really anything from what I saw.

We're sailing and it's all dark. But there's no snack room set up or big Welcome Buffet.

[A beat.]

But we could always go check it out together. You do one half and I'll do the other?

[For a moment, he considers it, then nods. Hell, why not. He's not bleeding, he's not dying, and the sooner he knows more about this boat, the better.]

Sounds like a plan. I didn't get your name, though, right? I'm Rosinante.

[There's no room for him to stand without basically dragging himself out of the room so he'll wait on that. First, he'll hold out a hand to shake.]

[He's spent too much time around the strong silent types to be bothered by beats of consideration. Cloud and Auron were never very talkative, and Leon only ever seemed to open up when he had some new job or piece of wisdom to impart- but then he's also had Riku as a best friend for as far back as he can remember. He wouldn't say that their influence has made him more patient, but at least he doesn't expect people to leap into decisions as whole-heartedly as he does.

Rosinante, he says. A name he's going to perpetually mess up.]

I'm Sora!

[Eager to meet halfway, Sora reaches into the space between them, taking his hand. It's a gesture that still feels like it doesn't fit right- like maybe he was supposed to grow into it. Now he'll never know.

When he withdraws, both palms land on the floor beside him and Sora's legs unfold. He doesn't wobble when he starts climbing to his feet, but he does find that his butt's asleep on one side. He slaps at his thigh absently.]

Oh, but maybe I should back out first? Aren't you gonna be stiff from being all hunched over?

Sora?

[Yeah, he'll have to move, but hold on a second because that name brings a slow smile to his face. Had he not just died, he might even grin, bold and bright, but that's a hard thing to manage right now.]

Where I come from, that's the name of a great hero. A champion of justice. A good name.

[A comic book hero, not a real one. But that wouldn't sound nearly as flattering, would it? And he's developed a real soft spot for those stories over the last few months, after discovering his kid's fondness for them.]

A champion of justice...

[It's not a hard thought to roll around in his head, but in a way that makes it transparent too. Sora's met all kinds of people on his journey from world to world and plenty of them had been heroic. There's even one who comes to mind first.

He takes a small step back even without the request, freeing up space where it's already in short supply and standing in the doorway instead. It doesn't stop both of his arms coming up. It doesn't keep him from flexing dramatically either. Herc, eat your heart out!]

Like in the stories!

Yeah! He sails from island to island, helping people in need, defeating pirates who threaten their homes, stuff like that. A real role model to people all over.

[Okay, so a chunk of it is Marine propaganda, he realizes this. But as a Marine, that's not a bad thing. They do defend the innocent from pirates for a living. Having kids associate Sora with them can be a real boon when they have to step into communities that don't see them often and try and put down local insurrections. All in the name of keeping the peace and stability of their member nations, which is something to be proud of.

With a bit more space now, he turns and gets his feet under him, and stands hunched over in the little cabin.]

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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