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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Then at least that much they appear to have told the truth about. [ Arya had been unable to detect any outright dishonesty about the men who'd spoken to them upon their arrival, but she was not equipped to read the tiny expressions of that bird-like creature, and the air about them all was not one she trusted. ] But I'm just as concerned about some of the people here as I am the darkness.

[ It's strange to her that this Jon she's speaking with now has not experienced the long night as she had, has not battled by her side against the dark and the dead to defend their home. She wants to tell him of it, but it would mean telling him so much more. When will she know the right time? She doesn't want to feel as though she's keeping secrets from him, but no easy, honourable answer comes to her. ]

Littlefinger might have been a romantic. Before I cut his throat, he told Sansa that he loved her more than our mother. [ She says it almost without inflection, like she's describing what she ate to break her fast. ] Being a romantic has never been smart. And Sansa is smart, now.

[ Cunning, more like, a part of her thinks. With Brienne traveling to King's Landing to take up the position of Lord Commander of Bran's Kingsguard, there was a reason Arya had not stayed on as Sansa's guard. She did not want to. And she had not been asked. ]

She had to learn from someone, I guess. [ Her face softens then, looking at Jon and thinking of all that he does not know. ] I did.

I know this darkness. It was all I saw before. [It still unnerves him, enough that he feels panic at being surrounded by it once again, submerged in emptiness and nothing. He tugs once more on the traps, as though that would be enough to stave off the darkness.] Who have you met that concerns you?

[The few he had seen were small children, a boy that was more like Bran in his younger years and a girl that was too innocent for such a fate. He didn't doubt the rest had their own share of cruelty and dishonest dealings, it was the nature of all of them. They weren't going to find many people sharing their father's honor.

They would have to make do with the companions they had.]

Littlefinger told me the same before I grabbed him by the throat and knocked him into the crypt wall. [He glanced over at Arya with amusement, they still shared similar thoughts after all this time.] Is she? Sansa is ruthless and is willing to do what she has to so that she feels safe, but not all of her decisions are ones we should follow.

I think she wants to be Queen instead of seeing me as king.

[Fine. She could have it now that he was dead.]

We all learned from someone we didn't expect to. You might have changed but you're not... [How far did he want to go without being unkind?] You're different than her.

[ She shrugs off the question about the people in this little village because Arya didn't fear anyone like she once did, and she would simply be keeping an eye on everyone as long as they were forced to stay among such strangers.

But her face falls when he speaks of Sansa, as though he really did know what the future holds, despite claiming not to have seen it himself. She uses one of her secret smiles on him, one of the old ones they used to share at Winterfell when they were children. ]

You don't know how right you are.

[ Arya had seen enough before she sailed west into mystery. Her sister ruling from a cold throne in a land where her brother was not welcome was not a land even she herself had felt at home in anymore. The world had been ruined for Arya Stark by the wars. ]

I couldn't follow her in the end. Not to the end. [ Despite all that had happened she can't believe how good it feels to be back with Jon, whatever the circumstances. ] We've always been different. She's always wanted her throne, even if it looked different back then. [ She shrugs, shivering to think about it all from such a short distance. It all feels like yesterday. ] I didn't belong in Sansa's kingdom anymore than you.

[He stops in his work, frowning down at one of the knots as he absorbed the news. He isn't surprised and that fact doesn't sit well with him. He had been thinking of Sansa as though she were the same girl he knew in Winterfell, shutting his eyes to the changes in her and the complete distortion of her character. She wasn't so much a Stark as Littlefinger's creation and he hated to admit that to himself.

It destroyed whatever naivety he still allowed himself to have. Perhaps that was his failure. He knew the truth nature of people after his death, but he refused to accept it in Sansa.]

She didn't accept Daenerys? [He had been hesitant to even ask about any of the future, but it was obvious they were drifting into the topic. It couldn't be avoided forever.] It means that Sansa didn't trust me enough to follow my decision. After all Daenerys gave for us, Sansa is determined to ignore her sacrifices and help. She's thinking of herself, not our survival.

[There is bitterness in his voice. It's less the insult to Daenerys that bothers him, it's that she once again undermines him. She openly objected to his decisions before he left and now she refuses to accept it once more, apparently turning the North against him.

What good was being named king if no one followed you?]

She's welcome to it, but she's going to find herself on her own.

[ And there it is - he asks about his queen. Arya flinches, but only for a moment. She quickly schools her expression and swallows, struggling to conceive of how to move forward. She does not want to break his heart anew, but neither can she lie to him. ]

No. She never did. Not even when your queen helped to save Winterfell in the battle.

[ She wants to tell him the role that she herself played in vanquishing the army of the dead, because if there is anyone that Arya would like to be proud of her it is Jon Snow, but now does not seem to be the time. Not when he is focused elsewhere. ]

But...

[ There is such sorrow in her voice, such resignation and heartbreak about all that she'd seen. It is a cruel joke by the gods that she has to be the one to tell him. That he doesn't remember. ]

Sansa was not wrong in the end. Not entirely. Yet not because she saw something I couldn't. It... [ She reaches to take his hand, squeezes it in hers, and her voice is damp with the threat of tears when she tells him. ] It went badly for her, Jon. [ And it is clear that she does not mean Sansa. ]

[From the answer Arya has given, he doesn't want to ask anymore than he has. There is enough there to break him and cast whatever hope and optimism he had into complete darkness. Suddenly the surroundings aren't so hostile, it was all he could see as it was.

He doesn't hide his face's contortions as emotion worked through him. Arya knows him and likely knew that he was in love with Daenerys. Hearing that it went badly for her, and from the sound of it, that she died was enough to break him.

There are tears, silent despite the force of his pain. He couldn't disturb the night, not even with his sorrow.]

Gods... [It's all he can really manage before a sob does break from him. He doesn't want to know how she died, not yet and maybe never. Just the idea of it is more than he can manage. He doesn't even register that Sansa was right about something, his sister at the back of his mind.] ...I shouldn't have waited.

[So much time they could have spent together was wasted. Now it was too late and she wasn't even here with him. That made it all the worse.]

[ When his face starts to crumple Arya's steely grip on his hand tightens, a grounding connection even as this news washes over him, but she's helpless when he starts to weep. The anguish at seeing him like this is too much, and without thinking Arya has thrown her arms around him, buried her face in the furs at his throat, her gloved hands clutching in his cloak and at his shoulders. The future is something she could not keep him safe from, and it's tearing at her now. ]

Who... who knows what might have gone differently. Maybe nothing.

[ But she doesn't sound convinced. She doesn't know, can't know. All she knows was the fire and ash she experienced, the terror she'd seen when it had all fallen apart for the queen that had saved them. She won't tell him anything else, she decides. Not unless she has to. ]

I'm sorry, Jon. [ And suddenly her hand is in his hair, her eyes slipping closed on her own tears. ] It was worth it, though. She helped us win. [ Perhaps that's what he needs to hear, she supposes. Telling him anything else can wait. ] Without what the two of you did, bringing her armies and yours together... There would have been no kingdoms left for anyone to lose. I saw them Jon. You where right.

[Arya is an anchor against the weight of these feelings and despair. He had been adrift after Ygritte, diving into the first chance at destruction he could find. With Arya next to him, holding him and keeping him in place, he could let the tides of this sorrow tear around him and not be cast into the abyss.

But it made it no easier to bear, the pain overwhelming him in a way that never seemed possible. It wasn't just a fancy that died, it was a renewed desire for living, found in the heart of a woman he never had the chance to cherish or love properly.]

We would have had something.

[Something was better than the nothing of his life before her. A night, a single kiss, he could have been sustained for a lifetime in this place with that. Now, he only had Arya to act as his reason and light, it was a weight he didn't want to put on her, not when she suffered as much as he had.

Maybe it was the waste of everything that pained him the most? What was the point of him returning or him falling in love again? If it all ended this way, why was he chosen by Melisandre's god to come back?

There was some validation though in Arya's words. That was something. Westeros was spared and the Long Night hadn't consumed them. Daenerys had lead the armies herself and rescued his people as she promised. A small sigh of relief eases from his chest as Arya holds him close, her hands wrapped in his hair, keeping him steady.]

She came even without me, even without that proof?

[ She doesn't want to kill his hope. To darken the little that he has left of her, the woman he'd loved, even if Jon didn't seem to remember so much. When she draws back to look at him in the eyes, the dark grey Stark eyes that are so much like her own, she draws on all the faceless men had taught her - the very heart of the game of faces - and smiles for him. She lies by only telling him part of it and pretending that it is all of it. ]

You did. She loved you too, you know. She did.

[ If Daenerys had not, Jon never would have lived to ride back into the far north again. Because of that, Arya knows it to have been true, and it lightens her heart a little to be able to tell him so. She squeezes him again as she says it. At least she can give this to him. ]

She saw the dead. She knew what was at risk, so she risked it all, too. We all did. [ She won't speak of the Lannisters, though. Now not. Now here. ] The dead, they... They almost won, Jon. It was a close battle. Without the dragonfire... They would never have been kept from Bran for long enough.

[ But she realizes as she says it that Jon, if he does not remember so much, might have no idea what she's talking about. ]

It was him the night king was after. Bran and his... magic.

[He leans his brow against hers, more intimate than other siblings might be, but he and Arya had always been unusually close. It was natural to be near to her in this moment, while he was hurting and mourning the loss of another lover. There was no one that could comfort him the same, their words would fall short of what Arya's presence offered.

Did Daenerys love him? He had suspected his feelings were returned, but he never thought about them. Not for very long.] I kept saying there was no time for it. I wanted to focus on the Night King and the Others. I was wrong. [Or maybe he was being a craven and shrinking back from happiness out of fear of losing Daenerys or sparing her from losing him.

It didn't matter. He never had the chance to even know what being with her was like. He could at least be comforted by knowing that she did the right thing in the end, she saved his people and his family.]

I didn't think it was a war we could win, even with dragons. Not unless all of Westeros banded together. [He doubted that was possible and the tone in his voice at least showed he didn't need convincing. Tyrion's plan was a reach and only ended up killing several good fighters.] With the way they grow their army, it wouldn't take much for them to overrun us.

[But what she said, the motive, it sounded strange. Why Bran of all people? He knew his brother was apparently capable of something, but this?]

What magic?

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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