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

No, no. I know.

( he saw war in his ma, like dappled sunlight through a canopy of green. it lives in you, colors little moments. he saw the look on her face the first time he came back bloody, an' it wasn't anythin' he's like to forget though she's been dead now near a decade. war's a beast, an' it howls for blood all your live-long days.

like all those men who came back mean from 1916, an' onward. gene knows that the things he's seen an' done will stay, but. he ain't afraid to confront the horror. time, patience and will can scour the worst of it from his soul. ain't nothin' wrong with memory, after all. )

I just mean I ain't troubled by... bein' troubled, I guess. I know my mind.

( he knows he's young. he also knows there ain't a lotta other fellas that can cotton to his life experience in all its sundry ways. but when you've seen the dead for an age, been party to all manner of death an' the horrors replete there, well. you come away changed. an' that change, to him, means that he knows himself an' ain't one to flinch in the face of his own imperfections. )

Do you?

⟪ it's not a question meant to be answered, not really, but if she knows one thing, it's that certainty at his age is at thing easily shifted, and that knowing all of war is not knowing the rest of the world ⟫

It would be admirable. I did not receive such clarity until long after I became one of God's own.

⟪ A priestess, that is, but that had meant giving up on many things. It had felt so easy, though – she'd never been one for any other life, had never had any other options. ⟫

( there's some skepticism to be had there, an' frankly he don't blame her. he knows it's a rare thing to come to it young. but he's always been like that. he ain't hardly ever doubted a choice he's made, a step he's taken, or an action done. conviction, his ma used to say. it ain't like he ain't hardly ever been wrong — lord knows he's taken his lumps for that, but the admittance is part of it too.

his mouth quirks up at one corner, an' he gives her a warm little smile. )

Ah, it ain't so admirable to just be how you're born.

( ain't a thing he can really take credit for one way or another. it was his ma's iron will and his pa's gentle heart what shaped him best, an' god's plan besides. )

Edited 2019-07-05 14:29 (UTC)

If I had remained what I was when I was born, I would not have lived to see your age. Slaves do not make it so far. God's Grace is what raised me.

⟪ and she was glad to die in his service, to never have a life of her own, to never be as free as some. after all, she had lived, had breathed, had felt, and had been granted duty and purpose. her soul and heart and body had been a small price to pay. ⟫

Someone raised you to be humble, no?

( she says it so casual-like, somethin' that's just a part of her beginnings, but it still hits him in a way that gets to hurtin'. he ain't got so much control over his expression he can hide the furrow to his brow or the slight downturn to his mouth where before there'd been a smile.

he's careful about skin-to-skin contact at the best of times, on account'a what he learned with alex. but, if they're already passed on then what can it hurt? he reaches out an' touches her wrist, a little thing simply meant to comfort. she brought it up, but he won't speak to it unless she shows a predilection for needin' to. )

My Pa'd be glad to hear you say so. He did his best by me, after my Ma passed on.

( his folks are the lights of his life, to be sure. he wouldn't be half the man he is without 'em both. )

⟪ few things she enjoys as easily as a casual touch, a gesture so strange and foreign and simply not done in asshai. it's good, too, in its way, to think of the family who raised him, the mother he'd lost but the father who had stayed. comforts she didn't have, won't recall if it saved her life. ⟫

Their pride must reach to Heaven.

⟪ after that, long as he doesn't mind, she'll be quiet, simply enjoying the company. to be alone comes with priesthood like the red robe, but 'tis not the same as a lonely life, not by far. ⟫

INTRO LOG: JULY

he needs a fucking exorcist at this rate omg

i mean. considering all the ghosts.

shhhh we don't talk about the ghosts

YET

i can't wait for her to find out tbh

no subject