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

QUICKNAV
comms	\|	network • logs • memes • ooc
pages	\|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The sudden sound is a muted thud followed by an arguably PG-rated swear. Nate checked his shin against one of the low walls around the church with the immense talent and grace of a man who isn't looking where he's going, because he's too busy walking and scribbling at the same time. Though the throbbing is less than minor and subsides almost immediately, he attempts to exercise more care in his walk and looks up long enough to see the cherry of a lit cigarette floating in the darkness, a blue flickering that reminds him of Shambhala, the ancients, and the resin.

Nate lifts his lamp.

The figure of a young guy swims into view, not overly clear given how dense the shadows are, but there. What is clear is that Nate caught him in the middle of a piss, so he pointedly tries to concentrate on the man's face, bathed in that odd phosphorescent light. ]

Um. Hey.

[ Only the light from the intruder's lamp stops Jesse from fully freaking out — if only because the light affords him the chance to see the guy's face. Still. Jesse's eyes widen, and one hand fumbles down to grab the unzipped plackets of his jeans. Jesse's penchant for jeans a couple of sizes too big for his skinny tweaker ass means his jeans are slipping further down his hips, revealing more of his black satin boxers with obnoxiously big marijuana leaf prints all over it. His lantern jangles in its handle hinges as his other hand — the one holding the lantern — dashes down to join in. Fuck. His hands are shaking from the adrenalin burst of fright he'd just got: He looks down, ash crumbling off the end of his cigarette, smoke curling up into his eyes. Fuck. He whips his attention back up onto the guy, mid-wrestle of his jeans, and the cigarette bobs manically from the edge of his lips: ]

How 'bout a little privacy over here, yo?!

Edited 2019-07-05 03:05 (UTC)

[ There's something to be said about the generally morbid, morose sense of humor pervading this land of the dead. There's so little to get a good chuckle out of, though Nate has been finding such things in the unlikeliest of places, and now is no exception to the rule.

The kid - he's a young man, probably, but he's skinny enough that it makes Nate think he's still in his early twenties - looks preposterously ridiculous. Weed boxers and an anxious grimace and smoke swirling around his face in the blue light, and Nate immediately cracks up.

He can't stop it, either. It's a genuine laugh, full and hearty and tapering out at the end with a little wheeze as he tries to get his shit together and fails miserably. ]

Oh, Jesus- oh my God. Dude. Did you make sure there's not a grave over there?

[ This asshole's laughing? Jesse's hands fumble over each other trying to yank the zip up. The goddamn lantern, though — Jesse grunts out an agitated sound as he pauses to thump his lantern down clumsily on the ground. It tips upon impact, toppling over, the handle clanking against the glass. Why is this guy still watching him? ]

What're you, a homo? [ Ash from his cigarette flickering off in brief glowing red sparks at how wild the cigarette is bobbing around Jesse's words. His hands abandon the zip to snatch at the waistband, and he hauls that too-big undone jeans up his skinny hips to reposition them before making a grab at the zip again. Zip. A hand coming up to snatch away the cigarette from between his lips, and with it pinched between his fingers, he flings that arm back out to gesticulate defensively at the guy: ] Where the hell'd you even come from, anyway, yo?!

[ Christ, it's even funnier that he's trying to hold onto so many things while simultaneously trying to pull his pants back up. Nate, to his credit, isn't staring so much as laughing and trying not to fucking cry because of it. The chuckling is just starting to wheedle out when the kid snaps and Nate lifts his hands, placating. ]

First of all, don't worry, you're not my type.

[ Maybe it's the age difference, or the casual homophobia, or the dozen other things Nate could list right off the bat. ]

Secondly, I was taking a walk. You know. Like people do.

INTRO LOG: JULY

I can't believe this is how they're meeting sdjfgbsjkgbj

the best possible way u mean

yes precisely that

no subject

no subject