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

Kind of a catch-22, isn't it? [ Rafe shrugs. ] If nobody's above suspicion, can't exactly trust your assessment either, buddy.

[ Kentucky, meet New York — one drawl to another. The booze isn't anything top shelf by a long damn shot but Rafe can't care right now. Hell, he'd take rubbing alcohol if the smell of it would just burn the rest of it out of his nose. The tang of gunpowder and smoke that doesn't seem to be going away any time soon and leaves a momentary grimace on his face to be wiped away with another shot of rye. ]

Besides. [ A quiet snort at the choice of words. ] Not as if there's anything but shadows in this hellhole.

Edited (oops icon) 2019-07-03 02:16 (UTC)

[ raylan turns his head to get a look at him and catches a whiff of him all at once. it makes him recoil just a little, giving himself a few extra chins until he sorts himself out and leans forward again. ] Oh, I'm sorry. [ there's a little affront in it, but mostly it's good-natured, a little ribbing. ] I don't remember signin' up to the buddy system. [ ha ha. raylan makes a face and has a sip of his drink. ] Anyway, the abundance of shadows only makes it that more likely we got ourselves a collection of ne'er-do-wells.

[ Hard not to catch that reaction but even as Rafe rolls his eyes, he can't exactly blame the guy. ]

Trust me. I know. [ He swirls his glass, tipping his head to the side. ] Little souvenir from right before boarding the ferry.

[ More than that he's not exactly eager to explain. He can't imagine anybody who would be, in their situation. It's a discretion he's trusting his new drinking buddy (there's that word again) to adhere to. At least until Rafe can find something to actually do about it.

The choice of phrase distracts him, even snorting a quiet laugh. The hat had been plenty on its own but gee golly, Andy Griffith. ]

Well, that settles it. No self-respecting sketchy character would be caught dead saying "ne'er-do-well" in conversation.

Clearly you've never been to Kentucky. [ raylan lifts his glass and grimly skulls it, like the mere mention of the place was enough to drive him to the grain. it's not far from the truth. he shakes his head as if he's trying to clear out the last vestiges of a bad train of thought and turns sidelong on the bar to lean against it with his elbow just shy of a patch of sticky spillage that he hasn't noticed yet. ]

You think everyone here's sweet as shoofly pie? 'Cause that rings about as true as grandma's teeth to my ears.

Never had that pleasure, no.

[ Noted oh so dryly as Rafe watches the man pound his back, settles his elbows on the bar. Quite an endorsement there. Clearly there's a hell of a something he's missing out on and it seems he ought to be grateful for the lack.

As for the rest... Rafe's forehead wrinkles, mouth opening and closing again without a sound. The gears visibly for a long minute before he huffs a laugh, hanging his head before tipping it to the side to get a better look at this hayseed. ]

Okay, [ he admits, more smile than smirk than he's managed since waking up on the boat. ] I can't tell if those are actual phrases or if you're just fucking with me.

They're actual phrases in that I just said them aloud. [ is he fucking with him? even raylan isn't sure, although he's badly swallowing back a smile. ] Which I think makes somethin', technically speakin', an actual phrase. If we're bein' technical about it, here, which I assume we are.

[ oh boy. is that one of his once-overs? yes. raylan gets rafe in pretty much one fell swoop, up and down, eyes eventually landing back on his face. ]

You look like a technical man to me.

[ Ah. So that's how it is. Rafe certainly doesn't mind it and the answering smile shows as much, spreading across his face like a lazy oil slick. ]

You're not wrong but... [ One good ogle deserves another and Rafe can't find it within himself to be impolite. His eyes slide from hat to boots and back again, taking their time along the way. ] If you want to look a little longer, just to be sure, by all means.

[ shit. this is going to be a problem, isn't it.

raylan slides along the bar to get closer, resting his cheek on his fist. ] Mm. Oh, yeah, for sure. Real technical. [ his eyes narrow, lips quirking up at one corner, no longer the goofy grin he'd been stifling before; it's a far more calculated smile now. ]

[ Depends on your definition of problem. ~~Yes.~~

For his part, Rafe sees no issue at all being examined like this. Appreciates it, even. Things progress so much more smoothly when both parties are fully aware of what they're after without dressing it up in unnecessary conventions and coy small talk. Which is why he twists around to meet that smile head-on, elbow propped on the back of his seat. ]

Discerning eye you've got there. [ A pause as he finishes off his glass without once taking deceptively sleepy eyes off of him. ] But then I could tell that just from your taste in hats.

Thank you kindly. [ like a pavlovian response, he lifts up a hand to touch the rim of it, holding onto his smile. ] So, [ he continues, in that way people say it when they mean for it to sound offhanded, a light change of subject that actually highlights a fundamental shift in the conversation, ] you found somewhere to camp out yet?

[ Oh, he is not about to— He is. Rafe can't help the grin at the utterly hokey and stereotypical response. This isn't his usual, preferring them a little less explicitly howdy do, but it's been a hell of a day and the drawl is doing something for him. ]

Managed to snag a spot for myself a little ways off from here. [ He matches tone for tone, cool and casual as he pointedly sets his glass back on the bar with a thunk. ] I'm a guy who appreciates his privacy.

INTRO LOG: JULY

001 » the invincible

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