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

ambrose spellman ( chilling adventures of sabrina ) ota

[necromantiae]

▶ 01. BELLY UP TO THE BAR

---

( it's a bit strange, being dead. he would have thought he'd be hotter (literally, in this case) or surrounded by demons or laying on a bed made of skulls but apparently, his afterlife is a small, permanently dark town, a bar, and a drink of something amber.

it's not terrible, really. dying wasn't the best way to break the house arrest that he'd been stuck with for nearly a century but it was something. it was nice to be somewhere different even if it meant those witch hunters had gotten the best of him.

but, those are thoughts for later when he's alone. because those thoughts will inevitably lead to thoughts of the family left behind and the wonder if they're mourning him.

for now, he is going to drink. can you get drunk when you're dead? ambrose is going to find out. )

▶ 02. SHOP TILL YOU DROP

---

( ambrose finds that there isn't much to do in a small town that's dark all the time. maybe greendale wasn't the best place in the world to live what with being such a hot spot for strange and unusual activity but it did have an enjoyable night life.

what was ambrose doing right now to entertain himself? book shopping. he's not expecting to find any interesting grimoires but maybe he'll get lucky and find something interesting from the mundane world. )

Catcher in the Rye?

( even in the afterlife, that book persisted, didn't it? what an overrated piece of tripe. )

Maybe I can use it for kindling.

▶ 03. BEACH BLANKET BINGO

---

I will definitely not be getting a tan here.

( still, the fact that there is a beach is a nice touch. it would be idyllic if it weren't so dark and foreboding. ambrose spends some time looking out over the water, trying to spot points of light that might indicate life elsewhere but it's just all darkness.

eventually, he ends up laying down in the sand and peering up at the sky. the fingers of his right hand twist and turn, little streaks of illumination shooting up and tangling in the air, giving himself and anyone nearby a small fireworks display. )

At least that still works.

( he hadn't lost everything when he died. )

▶ 04. WILDCARD

---

( feel free to throw anything at me. hit me up at spoonishly for plotting. )

02;

[originallutece]

Don't.

[That's very much a command, not a request, as she glances up from her own book-browsing.]

We have a limited number of resources here, and even overly dramatic melancholia can seem appealing when no one's any other option.

[For example: she herself is holding Great Expectations, so.]

[necromantiae]

( while that is probably right and made logical sense, ambrose still bristles the tiniest bit at being told to do something instead of asked. she wasn't one of his aunts, father blackwood or the dark lord so the urge to just not listen was strong. )

If people are turning to Holden Caulfield's unfortunately unfortunate life for comfort then the situation is worse than I thought.

( he says nothing in regards to her demand though. if he wants to burn it, he will.

he nods down at the book she's holding. ) Are you going to read that or use it as a coaster?

[originallutece]

We're dead. There are few situations bleaker.

[Is she sassing him? Is she being serious? It's so hard to tell with that deadpan expression.]

And both, most likely. Perhaps I'll try and see what subtleties Mr. Dickens tried to input beyond a general misogyny and a fetish for upward mobility.

[necromantiae]

I don't know, I'm rather enjoying it.

( for now. but he knows death can be eternal and if this goes on and on, it's just going to be house arrest all over again but in an even more permanent matter. )

It could be worse. I'm not hanging upside down my ankles and being subjected to a million needle pricks every minute of every day.

( pain was only fun in certain situations. )

Besides, I'm dead. I think I'm owed a little rage about that.

[originallutece]

You're enjoying it but you're filled with rage?

[Oh, isn't this a fun conversation? She shifts, facing him properly now, her attention officially on him.]

3

[dualikey]

[All beaches aren't created equal, but there's something about the combination of salty air and the way a pair of feet sink into the sand that'll always feel like home to an islander. That's part of the reason Sora'd decided to set up here instead of up at the already crowded inn. He's not sure what time of year it is, but it feels like summer and there's no heavy weight on the breeze that suggests a storm is close behind. Camping out here seems as good as anywhere else.

Besides, they've all- they all died, didn't they?
So that means they've got plenty of time to figure things out. And that suits him just fine.

It's part of the reason he's ready to settle down now. There aren't a whole lot of things left to do and most of the people he's seen are figuring out what their rooms will be or who they'll be sharing with. Laying down and taking a break seems like as good idea as any and it looks like he's not the only one either! Sora picks out a spot for himself just far enough away that they'll both have a little privacy- but that plan goes hurtling out the window when he sees a flurry of sparks lighting up the dark. Between the relative emptiness of the beach and their own personal perpetual nightfall, the firework display is impossible to miss. And instead of shouting and waving across the beach- Sora comes jogging over instead- towering over the prone figure like someone's enthusiastic labradoodle.]

No way! Was that you?!

[necromantiae]

Was what me?

( it takes him a moment to see whose there, looming above him, because it is so dark but once he does, he relaxes. doesn't look like anyone that's come to...

that thought dies out pretty quickly since he can't exactly be killed again. )

Oh, the magic? ( he flicks his fingers and watches some sand twirl up into the air. ) Of course it is. No other warlocks out here, are there?

[dualikey]

Huh? A warlock?

[The word feels strange in his mouth, and whether its that unfamiliarity or just the awkward looming he's put himself to, Sora eases back onto his heels- injecting a more comfortable, less overeager distance between them.

So far from town square and without the bonfire there to throw warm light over everything in reach, they only have the moon to rely on. It means that the grains of sand that follow, pitching themselves into whorls and spins look like tiny silver flecks.

Sora's head cants thoughtfully, both hands coming to rest on his hips.]

Is that like a wizard? 'Cause all the wizards I've ever seen are pretty old.

[necromantiae]

It is...similar. We're usually more often equated with witches but from what I know of wizards, there are similarities, yes.

( and he was old but he definitely doesn't look it. he's not going to put on a big pointy hat or grow a long beard because that just makes him look ridiculous. )

Wizards are more often found in fantastical stories and this, my friend, is real.

[dualikey]

[Huh? Witches too?!

Sora has always worn his heart on his sleeve and by extension, his feelings are easy for anyone to read. In the moment it makes the intersection between his confusion and curiosity look transparent. He bends down, squatting in the sand beside him as he rests his chin in the dip of one palm.]

I dunno if I'd say they're that fantastical...

[But!]

But what're the similarities? I don't see a beard, of even a big pointy hat!

2

[nonscriptum]

[ There are "classics" filling the shelves, or rather, the kinds of classics that most people who went to high school sometime in the latter half of the twentieth century would have read. Nate isn't familiar with many of them, but that's what he gets for leaving school at the tender age of twelve.

He pulls a face at the cover that's flashed in his general direction, some kind of squiggly carousel horse. ]

Can't say I ever read that one. Overrated?

[necromantiae]

No no, it's great if you're a pretentious asshole who likes to flaunt how philosophical and deep they are.

( please don't be that kind of person, nate. )

Otherwise, it's better used as fertilizer, really. Dreadful book.

[nonscriptum]

...yeah, no, don't worry.

[ The description already has him wrinkling his nose. Of course, it should be noted that this is also a man who has never read the Bard, but most of the Elizabethan media that Nate consumed was a little more...esoteric. Occult. John Dee, and the like. ]

Doesn't really sound like my thing. [ He pulls a book called Sense and Sensibility off the shelf, glances at it, and puts it back. ] I'm Nate, by the way. Nathan Drake.

[necromantiae]

Ambrose Spellman. Pleased to make your acquaintance in this afterlife.

( he tosses catcher in the rye back, discarding it for the moment before offering a hand towards nate. )

It's not really my thing either. I've read it because it was, once upon a time, the fashionable thing to do but I hated myself for doing it and I hate the book too.

[nonscriptum]

[ It's a firm, brusque handshake that doesn't linger, but it lets him know Ambrose is at least comfortable with friendly introductions. ]

Yeah?

[ The grin Nate quirks is crooked, but mostly because he can't imagine reading anything just to stay in fashion. Then again, his clothes should be evidence enough that fashion is not in his wheelhouse. ]

Never really got into much fiction. My life was crazy enough already.

03

[withsadness]

[Mary, having never truly seen the beach before, can't help but explore the shore even if it's darker than she would like it to be. She's just thinking to herself how this terribly ruins the images she has in her head of the beach, the way she's read about it in books, when she sees a small popping of color and light in the distance.

Without hesitation she dashes toward it, like a moth desperate to bash itself into a lightbulb. And then, Ambrose has a friend. Mary plops down beside him, clapping her hands.]

Again! Do it again!

[necromantiae]

What, the magic?

( he probably should be a little more careful with things, honestly. while he thinks being dead gives him a pass on keeping everything a secret, being out and proud with his magic might be a detriment in some ways. )

You've never seen magic before?

[withsadness]

[She shakes her head.]

Nothing like that...it was so pretty! Like little stars.

[necromantiae]

Just a little something to make sure death hadn't taken it away from me.

( he gives his fingers a quick twist and watches sand rise up and twist around before falling back down gently. )

I don't know why I can still do magic when I'm technically dead but I'm trying not to think about it.

[withsadness]

[Ambrose's little display is met with another round of delight from Mary, who considers his thoughts with an innocent sort of curiosity.]

How come you wouldn't be able to do it anymore?

bar hopping!

[preseance]

( he's watched this fella down just about enough to drop a donkey in a short enough window of time that he's... well, concerned. he's packed more than his fair share of boys outta gutters and ditches and lord knows what else. he ain't got any saline on hand for the inevitable hangovers bound to happen, but.

he takes a seat beside the man, nursin' nothin' stronger than a bottle of coke. )

You holdin' up all right, fella?

( he ain't a preachy sort. could be the man can handle his liquor just fine, but it's a medic's prerogative to suss these things out. least he can do is make sure he ain't about to send somebody off to drown in their own vomit. )

[necromantiae]

( ambrose doesn't answer immediately, taking his time in downing the last few drops of the drink he'd been enjoying before sliding it back across the bar for the bartender to eventually pick up. )

Do you mean besides being dead?

( he glances over and grins like he doesn't have a care in the world. he has many cares, of course, but he's trying not to let those cracks show right now. )

Still getting used to that.

[preseance]

I mean in addition to bein' dead.

( lotta folks are havin' trouble copin' with it. he's seen rage an' grief an' several now that've tried to crawl their way on into a bottle. his own smokin' habits, well-marshaled in the war, have gotten so bad he'd put nat collier to shame by now. he's itchin' for one just sittin' here.

far be it from him to dictate how one oughta grieve the soul an' self of their own life. his tone's one of gentle, quiet sympathy. )

You got a room yet to sleep all this off?

[necromantiae]

Yeah. But don't worry, kind sir, I'm not anywhere close to needing that just yet. My tolerance might not be what it was a few decades but I think I've still got...at least three or four drinks before I'm a walking, talking idiot.

( maybe more if the alcohol was weak. less if he decided to go for the strong stuff. )

But other than the being dead thing, I believe I'm doing okay. A little confused as to what this place is and how long I'm meant to be here but that's minor in the grand scheme of things.