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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[ the way nate said that it makes it seem like it wasn't wherever he came from in the first place, another intermediary location. raylan's brow furrows, although maybe he's looking too deeply into this just because focusing too much on the cant of his own head in that drawing – is he doing it right now? he makes himself look straight-on – is going to give him a headache. ]

Another place before this?

[ He doesn't want to take his sketchbook back, seeing as Raylan is still holding onto it and staring for some reason, but it still makes him itch that it's getting this much scrutiny. Luckily, there's a distraction. ]

...remember how you asked me whether I was taking all this really well, or just doing a good job of pretending?

[ He wishes he had the drawings from Hadriel. The sprawling cave, the bunker full of the dead, the remains he found at the bottom of a deep, deep lake. Something that would give him concrete evidence beyond his association to a few friends from another world who insisted he bunk with them. ]

There was a city before this, a bunch of people from different times and places picked up and dropped together. It's where I met them. Only difference between here and there is that we were alive, we...we went home afterward. [ He huffs a humorless laugh. ] I was back in my world for a grand total of a few hours before-

[ You know. ]

[ somehow, in spite of believing him inherently – what possible reason would he have to lie? – raylan still manages to look skeptical. maybe it's just his face. he chews the inside of his cheek for a second, brow furrowed as he's thinking it over. ] Shit, Nate. I mean, you come out of one fucked-up city, get back to your own world, and fall off a goddamn cliff a couple hours later. Startin' to think your stick's just got two shitty ends.

[ He laughs. It's the kind that has him throw his head back, a sharpness trapped between understanding and incredulity, more than aware of what he's survived and what it took for him to get here. Cognizant of the sacrifices he's made, the cost of lies.

When Nate's head dips forward again he rubs at the bridge of his nose, a self-deprecating smile on his face. He can see Avery's words as though they were scratched into the wood of the floors, the walls. I am a Man of Fortune, and I must seek my fortune. ]

With the kinda luck I've had, it was bound to run out eventually. Fortune's fickle.

[ well, at least he's laughing. at least there's that.

raylan grins, giving his head a little shake, and ends up looking away from nate for a few seconds, because he has a nice laugh. this whole thing – all of it, this whole place – is so indescribably fucked up that it's hard to even think about, and yet somehow he's still getting himself into the same old shit. nothing ever changes. ]

Yeah, I figure everyone in here must've run outta luck long before they ended up on that goddamn boat. Pretty sure I've been runnin' on fumes for the last – [ he inhales as he's thinking it over ] – six years?

Yeah?

[ He probably should have died a decade ago. He's desperate for something that will keep from dwelling too far, too long, on what he's lost. More than that, it's nice to fill in the gaps in a history, and Nate is enjoying the company too much to want to climb out the window again. Seems gauche.

He gently slaps Raylan's bicep with the back of his hand, grinning. ]

Got any stories about it?

[ what better time than this to commiserate. it probably doesn't hold a candle to getting shot at and then falling off a cliff, but... it's somewhere to start. ]

Wife left me for the realtor, how's that for a story? And then I get reassigned from Miami to Lexington and who should be livin' there but Winona. And – [ his lip curls in disgust ] – Gary.

Edited (icon woops) 2019-07-07 03:09 (UTC)

Jesus.

[ It isn't exactly the commiseration he's expecting, but Nate is hard-pressed not to look shocked, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. A lot of information in a very small package, delivered neatly with a drawl that Miami apparently couldn't shake. Nate's familiarity with the city isn't helping - it's hard to picture Raylan in his hat surrounded by sand and rollerbladers wearing neon g-strings.

Who names their kid Gary, anyway? Gary is the name of a middle manager at Target. ]

Okay, so...shit luck. Why'd you get reassigned back to the homestead?

Shot a guy. It was justified. [ he lifts his shoulders in a neat little shrug. it's kind of weird to be talking about this with someone who has absolutely no context right now. he could be anyone from anywhere. as usual, it's taken him far too long to realise that, too long and he's already settled as himself again. he puffs out a sigh. ] I gave him twenty-four hours to leave Miami or I'd shoot him on sight. He pulled, so I shot him. But the AUSAs always got somethin' up their ass the approximate size and shape of their own fist, so.

[ Nate absorbs the information with the unbothered impassivity of a man who has seen comparable situations. Pretty cosmically improbable that it would land him in the same state where he grew up, but Nate has learned that inconvenient coincidences are the bane of his own life - why not that of others?

Doesn't change the fact that it seems like the guy who got shot probably earned it, knowing the sort of work a marshal does. The disclosure makes him think that Raylan has had to defend this argument more than once. ]

So the reassignment was a punishment.

Yeah. [ he points at nate like he's answered the million dollar question. ] Funny joke, ain't it. Oh, how I laughed. [ he sucks in a breath and shakes his head, looking away. it takes him a second before he laughs, a vague chuckle that cuts out as quick as it started. ] Suddenly don't seem to matter too much now we're here.

[ He never had the agony of work assignments until more recently, and even then Nate enjoys taking point regardless of whether the job is a sunken tall ship off the coast of South Carolina, or a freight truck's worth of cargo - though the latter usually has more disappointing finds on board. He can't imagine somebody else up and relocating him without his say-so.

Nate watches him for a long moment, a small furrow between his eyebrows. ]

...why'd you join the marshals service?

[ what a question. raylan's face goes through an interesting series of expressions, from mild surprise to a moment of confusion and then resignation. ]

Sure I had a reason at the time, but thinkin' back on it – think I just liked the allure. You know, [ he unclips the badge from his belt and moves it until it catches the light of his lantern, ] there's a kind of glamour to this. You ever had an opportunity to flash a badge at someone?

[ Raylan lifts the badge for admiration in the same way that Nate used to hold Sir Francis Drake's ring aloft, silver glinting sharp and cold, the weight and assurance it used to bring him. Sometimes he catches himself reaching for where it used to hang from his neck, heavy with the meaning he ascribed it. ]

Can't say I have. [ The lure of adventure caught him the same way once, and Nate smiles fondly for the sentiment it and Raylan's badge dredge up. ] But I know the feeling pretty well.

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INTRO LOG: JULY

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