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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( unusual is pretty much his middle name at this point, so gene's expression is only faintly wry. )

When the mood strikes, I suppose I do.

( his ma never lamented her lack of girls, even after she was dead an' gone. but. there were things he'd wanted to do to carry on for her, anyhow. three brothers to look after besides, an' no shortage of meals needin' to be cooked and socks mended. robbie barely even remembered her, an' anyway the duties that'd been hers fell almost naturally to him, leastwise until he shipped off to brooklyn with ezra to learn his trade.

lord knows jesse hicks knew what he was getting into when he married a suffragette. his pa cooked just as often as his ma did, growin' up. right on up until he broke his back in the holmstead mine. )

I was plannin' on a pie later, if you think you're of a mind.

No eating, Mr. Hicks. But my roommate may enjoy some, and I'll direct him your way.

[But that's mildly interesting. She moves, sitting at her desk, gesturing that he might take a chair if he wants. She takes a screwdriver off the desk, absently picking at a complicated looking few bits of metal.]

Tell me how a man goes from the trappings of typical gender norms to baking.

( a bit of a grimace. )

Right, sorry. Forgot that part.

( he ain't well-used to anyone refusin' food. it's so innately southern. )

An' ah. ( his brow wrinkles faintly. this feels halfly like an interrogation, he's bein' taken to task through. ) It just weren't a thing we ascribed to in my family, ma'am. My Ma was a suffragette, she wouldn't'a stood for any manner of inequality.

( victoria hicks was a force of nature, an' his father loved the storm of her. gene learned about the rest later — by the time he came along, she'd been in an' outta jail more times than she could count but she was a fair hand at seemin' proper for the raisin' of her boys. it weren't until she died that he felt he came to really know her at all. he'd never known she was in the war, it just weren't a thing she spoke on. )

She passed on when I was nine, an' her duties came to me. Pa didn't want me workin' so young, so... he an' I split the cookin', an' I stayed in school at his behest.

[Oh, that's interesting. That really is interesting, and she actually glances up, blue eyes flickering over his face for just a few seconds.]

That couldn't have made her very popular around town. Or you, for that matter. People don't tend to like those who advocate for change.

( he shrugs a bit. )

We minded our own business. Don't think anybody in Agathine knew about her past, she weren't from the US.

( an' the adventurin' had mostly gone outta her by the time they settled in agathine besides. she wanted a quiet life with her husband an' ysobel, whom she'd loved so well in the war. )

An' nobody paid me no nevermind, I was gone to New York by the time I was fourteen anyhow.

( ain't an injustice witnessed he's never let go without intervention, but he'd been younger then an' more inclined towards politeness an' respect towards his elders. bein' in brooklyn didn't change that, but. in a way, it firmed up his resolve to stand his ground. )

Oh? And why was that? Don't give me that rot about it being the greatest city in the world; you ought to know better than that if you've spent any amount of time in it.

What led you there? It can't have been disgust of your hometown, you've retained too much of your accent for that.

( he laughs a bit. he weren't about to do no such thing, an' thinks it right queer that that'd be what she'd land on as a potential assumption, but. )

Ah, no ma'am. I went for a carpentry apprenticeship.

( there weren't much work in agathine, an' he'd been a mouth to feed at a table that could barely feed the five of 'em to start. the economic downturn hit alabama with some conviction. ezra'd only taken him on as a favor to ysobel, an' he couldn't hardly pay him either, but he'd learned a trade of value an' had a roof over his head for the intervening years. )

[Oh, hello, and she looks more intent all of a sudden.]

How decent are you at putting together, say, a small building? Just one room, really.

( he lifts his right shoulder up in a shrug. )

I'm a fair hand. Built several additions onto various houses. I couldn't do much about plumbin' or the like, but. If all's you need's a structure an' it don't need to be pretty, I could manage that all right.

And what would you like in exchange?

[Because that's more or less precisely what she has in mind: just a structure to house her things, and a roof to keep them dry. The rest she can do herself, adding on as need-be, but a basic building is what's required.]

( he's so direct it's almost refreshing, but he shakes his head anyhow. )

I ain't in need of anythin', ma'am. Just happy to help.

( it ain't like the dead have a currency. she can't get him home, or send a message to his family, she can't tell him how al's doin' over in the pacific. anythin' else is dust an' air. )

That can't possibly be it.

[She'll owe him, then, and she hates owing people things.]

Surely you have something.

( n...ot really. but seein' as how she clearly intends to balance the scales he don't even consider as bein' tipped to start with — )

Well, then I guess I ought to know what you're good at, an' see if we can't work somethin' out.

Most things I put my mind to.

[Well, that's modest.]

Mathematics. Science. French. Classic literature. Dancing.

( well, maybe he's a bad catholic on account'a him not much caring about modesty for its own sake. he's always believed that if you're good at somethin', you ought to own it. it ain't pride if it's true. )

Well, there you go. Help me keep my French up to par, an' we'll call it even. I ain't had much cause to use it lately, I'd hate to fall outta practice.

[Oh, well, that's easy. She takes a moment, and then, smoothly:]

And what level are you at, hm? Conversational, or should I go slower?

[The grammar is perfect; the accent is . . . ehhh, but whatever!]

( he smiles a bit, just a touch. )

Oh, I manage well enough.

( aunt ysobel's french was flawless, after her nursin' years in the great war, an' she an' his ma used to use it as their method of conversation. that, an' the time he's since spent in france workin' alongside the maqui, it was always a boon to have a man in the company that was passable fluent, an' gene's always had a knack for languages. his command of french is easy an' sure, an' his accent is... still perhaps a bit alabama, though it ain't half so strong. )

Mostly just worried about losing fluency.

[Her eyebrows tick up in surprise. Far be it for her to admit someone is better than her in any way, but . . . well. His accent may just have her beat. Possibly. Maybe.]

And when did you learn this? And why? Yes, yes, the war, I assume any language is good to know, but what's useful to learn and what people truly do are often not overlapping circles.

( he laughs, lifts his right shoulder in a bit of a shrug. he switches back to English just for ease of communication, since he's like to encounter words he ain't sure of in tryin' to explain. )

Well, I mentioned my Ma. She weren't just engaged in bein' a suffragette, she was a nurse in the Great War just the same. She picked it up while she was there, an' thought it important that her boys know it. Didn't speak much after she died except with my brothers, but I ended up bein' the translator in Maqui territory more'n once.

[Not gonna lie: Rosalind kind of wishes she could meet his mother. Not as a replacement for him, per se, and not that she wishes death (another death) on the woman, but at the same time, good lord, she sounds like someone Rosalind would have liked.]

I managed to miss that war.

[Thank god. She'd seen enough in snatches to know she wanted Robert nowhere near it, though few of the futures she'd envisioned had Columbia get involved-- or have the Luteces back in England.]

You know, you won't learn more if you keep switching to English. Don't tell me you're afraid you can't keep up?

Edited 2019-08-06 16:08 (UTC)

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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