logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER

INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER

INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER
OLD FAT BOAT

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, and around town.
date/time: november 1-3.
content: the ferry's back! yay! and it's piled high with goodies! yay!
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.

•••

To everyone's surprise, the ferry does indeed arrive on schedule. Right on time, it comes chugging along toward the beach, though its usually noisy engines are silent. And it seems to be sitting quite low in the water... Hmm.

Unfortunately for those unlucky enough to find themselves onboard, there isn't yet a replacement dock for the one that was destroyed last month. The ferry stops right where it would normally anchor, but then... that's it.

Logistically, there's good news and bad news: The good news is that the ferry is only about 25-30 feet from shore, which is well within the safety of the harbor and is a manageable distance for swimming with an open flame. The bad news? It's... 25-30 feet from shore, which is going to make unloading supplies, er, tricky.

The usual monthly stock has also come in, but, oh, what's this? There's an awful lot in the cargo hold. An awful, awful lot. As a matter of fact, the boat is absolutely filled with food and goods. The storage areas are packed tight, but the bounty spills out onto the decks, and even into the cabins. It's entirely possible that some of the newbies woke up surrounded by potatoes, or with a carton of eggs balanced on them. Maybe even in a pile of Beacon's signature standard clothing. In short, the ferry has become a proverbial horn of plenty.

Where all this stuff came from is one mystery, but another is how to get it all to shore. Better unload it before the weight sinks the ferry again! Just kidding. (Or are we?)

At a glance, the only thing out of place on the ferry is that the door to the bridge is welded shut. Seems a small price to pay for this resurrection though, doesn't it? Besides that one door and all these goodies piled high on the ship, it's almost as if the ferry crash never even happened. Maybe things will be okay after all?

Or maybe the new arrivals will have something to say about that. 🤔

And speaking of newcomers, the tablet and the town have some resources available for getting acquainted with their new situation! In fact, as soon as they're prompted to enter a network username, an app containing all sorts of useful welcome information will launch. Newcomers can always check out the weekly bulletins and the records in town hall as well, and everyone's welcome to get in touch with the NPCs through their inboxes.

ooc.

Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to In the Night! For this intro log, you are officially without a chaperone. Rastus is back at the bonfire, Will is characteristically elusive, and Robin is, well, you know where she's at. It's up to the veteran residents to fill in the new folks.

As hinted above, it's also up to veteran residents (and newbies alike) to figure out the missing dock situation. Some efforts have already been started to rebuild the structure, but until that's done, the logistics are in your hands! Swim for it, fly for it, teleport to the beach, or maybe use one of the rafts or boats built earlier to shuttle people to and fro. Whatever you do, just make sure you get all the cargo (and people!) off the ferry before it departs.

As an additional note: We will NOT be tracking how you do all of that! There's no need to report salvage efforts to us, as by now, we trust y'all players to make things happen. So long as we see these challenges getting addressed ICly, we'll assume the town came together and figured it out somehow. Nice work, everyone!

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

The monthly store restock
A smorgasbord of other items; though limited in scope to the items typically found in the restock/stores, there's an abundance of everything.
And that's it. With the fate of the ferry uncertain, Rastus was unable to order deliveries last month. :(
...Except for a single box of blueberry Poptarts for Peter Parker.

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

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

#1, ferry, enroute

[ A gun is in front of her face, and then she knows nothing until the sounds of water and creaking wood. Everything else is silent. Ellever stares at the ceiling with a deep frown, trying to make sense of it, wondering how she forgot about being away from home. But then she remembers the feeling of needles in her skin and Circe standing over her, whispering ssssh like it would make a difference, and being sleepy. So sleepy. A gun, and then nothing. Ellever curls in on herself for a little while, freezing up, before she glances next to her and notes the lantern. Wrought iron with amber glass, she stares at it for a long moment before she sits up. Her body is still sluggish and even picking up the lantern is a problem, but stubbornly she stands up and drags herself from the room.

There are no shoes for her to put on, and the night is brisk in her purple paisley blouse and jean shorts. Taking a handful of steps alone is a chore; she keeps having to stop and catch her breath. It's like her body is suddenly made of cement, what had Circe injected her with? ...no, she can guess, but she'd rather not think about it. She shakes her head and makes her way up onto the top deck, just in time to catch the light show happening in the fog over the water. ]

What the...

[ There's a person standing not too far away and she struggles to make it over toward them, using the railing of the ferry and sucking in long breaths between each couple of steps. ]

Hey, are you seeing this?

#2, ferry, 'docked'

[ When the ferry rumbles to life and seemingly arrives at its destination, whatever that is, Ellever blinks, making a note of the other people on board. All with lanterns, all in varying stages of preparedness. Interesting. If this is the afterlife, it's as warm and welcoming as she thought it would be. ...but, she thinks a moment later, it's certainly what she'd deserve. She's still feeling sluggish and heavy even if walking isn't as difficult as it was. And when she closes her eyes she can see the barrel of a gun, pointed directly into her left eye. When she does, she shivers and tries to cast the image out. Now's not the time. Later she can try to process... whatever happened. For now, she needs to stay pragmatic.

Wearing her blouse, shorts, and a silver chain that's feeling colder all the time, with bare feet, she regards the water dubiously. ]

Great. Swimming? [ Normally she'd be game, but she feels like she'd sink in a heartbeat if she tried now. ] I've never been to summer camp, but this is the worst one.

The previous month had been more of a nightmare than anyone had hoped for, but even with his injured arm and a week of wild hallucinations, Rosinante had persevered - and persisted in both his projects. The star chart and his subsequent discovery of stars going missing kept him focused when he needed time for physical rest, but working on the boats, especially with the help of Jason and a few others, had been an excellent distraction, particularly once his left arm was no longer swollen or hurt to move.

What he had to show now for months of work on that project was a new creation. Sora and Riku and the others had gotten them started off with a raft and a little rowboat or two, but finally Rosinante had completed something more substantial: a rowboat long enough for three, with a simple rudder, central mast, and one square sail cobbled together from mixed clothing and a purple vampire costume cape. Will it get him or others across the lake? Maybe not - but for its maiden voyage, he grabs the oars, hooks his lantern to a peg on the mast, and heads out to the new ferry.

1. Taxi service

He's cautious on approach. The ferry, if that's what this is, is a different craft entirely and who knows what surprises might come along with that. But after a moment spent studying it at a short distance, its cargo seems to be the same as ever - or more. He waves at whoever he sees first with a coil of rope in his hand.

"Hey there! Need a ride?"

2. Unloading

There is a lot of stuff on the ferry! And as always, he's glad to help out. Trouble is without a fully rebuilt pier, unloading the supplies is almost harder than piling them on in the first place. The little boat balances well, but as he pulls up toward the beach, he can't easily just anchor and hop out into the water and pass things. Water is, after all, the nemesis of anyone who has consumed a devil fruit. Are you on shore? He calls out:

"Mind bringing the raft around? I can load things onto it from here and you can bring it in to shore!"

An assembly line that ends with a flat-bottomed vessel is a good idea, after all, and it has nothing to do with his personal issues with water. None.

3. Wildcard

((Rosinante can be found afterward unpacking things at the General Store, looking at photos and star charts at a table by the bar, or pretty much anywhere with a cigarette in one hand and a watchful eye on the general surroundings. Feel free to ask why he's wearing makeup, why he's so damn tall, or how he managed to just trip and fall over the air for the third time in as many minutes. Or hit me up via PMs or on plurk at

tinylongwing.))

Edited 2019-11-02 00:33 (UTC)

i. On a Boat; closed to anyone on the ferry
[ Thank God for the fact that she's not getting seasick. She's not sure she could handle that at the moment--seasick, on top of waking up somewhere you're not, curled up next a bundle of carrots while a horrendous song plays, it would be a little too much to throw at her today. The straw that broke the proverbial camels back, except the camel is Midge Maisel and she's possibly going insane, if her inner monologuing is any indicator.

She's definitely on the boat. And it's definitely dark out, which means whoever put her here has taken some time to do so. Or maybe she's been on a boat this entire time?

There's a terrifying thought. As much as she's tempted to go back to sleep, a wave of adrenaline is forcing her not to be lazy--most of her boat trips are quaint rowboats in the Catskills, or the ferry for the statue of liberty. Not waking up with bundles of vegetables and her things and-- ]

Oh my god.

[ There it is: it's just hit her, what she was doing before she woke up. There's the sudden wave of panic as she jolts upright, fear etched onto her face. She heads for the only exit in the little room yanks the door open with a surprising amount of strength for someone who looks so delicate. She nearly trips in her heels in the darkness, lantern forgotten. ]

Have we been kidnapped?!

[ Because there's someone else in the hallway. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck, this is Sophie Lennon's doing, isn't it? ]

ii. Almost off a boat;
I'm not an expert on anything nautical but what kind of a dock has no actual dock? Is that glowing fish normal? Not that any of this is.

[ Hello, world. Midge Maisel has calmed down. Visibly, at the very least. Internally is a completely different beast, but damned if she isn't going to try to put her best foot forward. Or....Swim forward. She's actually not going to swim: courtesy of a life-boat, or maybe a raft, she has someone helping her to shore. Her arms stuffed to the brim with boxes and bags--all clothes--and she's clinging onto them for dear life. Once she arrives on the shore, she looks at the nearest person expectantly: maybe the closest person, maybe even the person that ferried her over. Take her things, won't you? She needs to climb out. ]

iii. Totally off the boat;
Hi--excuse me--hello. [ Miriam's smile is effervescent as she approaches. Is she still internally panicking? Now more than ever. She's not struggling with holding the lantern up for long periods of time--having two kids makes you impervious to that sort of thing--and most of her things have been piled neatly and carefully out of the way for the time being. ] I'm Miriam. You can call me Midge. I'm new here. [ Extending her free hand is effortless, full of charm and elegance and grace... or would be, if she wasn't still absolutely terrified. To her credit, she's good at handling it. ]

So--where do I put all of my belongings? I've been told there are lodgings, which ones are mine? Is it a hotel room situation? A concierge? Probably not.

iv. All hail the glowfish; closed to Sarissa
[ This is it, Midge thinks. She's hallucinating. She's had it too good after her life finally going up that she's cracked. Spending some time with her head literally between her knees in the room she'd woken up in had helped, at least a little, but since no one had any answers she inhales slowly, exhales slowly, and puts on her her best face. Damned if she's going to let the world know how absolutely terrified she is right now.

No one else here has any idea she's as scared as she is, and good--but at least she's not alone in feeling like she's absolutely fucked. Like now, there's someone using their shirt to...What, exactly? ]

What are you doing?

[ Is she trying to make a rope? ]

( Sarissa's moving quick. Too quick to get hung up on details, like how much she would like to not be pulling off her shirt, and exposing the litany of scars across her back. An arrow runs down her forearm, colours swirling around it, and the old injuries on her back are layered over with seemingly countless small tattoos. )

I gotta take a look.

( The accent is broad, thickly Australian, and she doesn't bother looking towards her present company. Her lantern rests on the deck, and as she coils her shirt into a rope, she loops it around the railing. )

Clues are clues.

( And a lack of impulse control is very much... well, you know. Lacking in impulse control. )

[ he's here to help get shit off the boat, assuming a boat even arrives and-- thank the heavens or whatever black abyss this new ship has seem to appear out of because supplies were growing short, and eliot really isn't ready to accept the possibility of starving yet. not that he's been ready for anything else that's happened here, but. well, that's probably why he's just shocked into staring when he's flagged down like a doorman of some sort. or maybe rather a docker in this case, which probably only follows given the fact he's been caught carrying a crate of veg off the new, old, fat boat.

it's a task to shuffle it to one side and shake her hand, but he manages it with some manner of grace, thanks to the aid of lifting magic. ]

Midge? Never heard that one before. Eliot. Welcome to the inhospitable and yet still hospitable nowhere you'll be calling home for the next however long the lady in the lighthouse dictates. [ which does little to explain anything, but having listened to all quentin's ranting the last couple weeks, it's the best he can manage with his own share of frustrations. ] Yeah-- no concierge, I'm afraid. Or doormen. Or carts? Just. [ a sigh. ] You and your hands and whatever other [ he makes a strange hum ] gifts you've been graced with.

It's more like an inn? But actually definitely an inn. And. Well. It's. Quaint. To say the least. But if the rooms aren't to your liking, you've also your choice of luxury backwoods cabins.

First come first serve. Everything's bound by the honor system around here. So.

[ he eyes the belongings piled into miriams arms and hands. ]

Jesus, did you bring your whole wardrobe?

[Rosalind glances up from her book. Let's say they're in the Invincible, because she's got a glass of wine and her lantern and a fairly decent book on psychology and a long night ahead of her. But she glances up, and even shakes the offered hand.]

Madam Lutece.

[And she may call her that.]

There aren't assigned rooms. You can find an empty one and claim it, though. There's rooms upstairs, I believe, or a fair few across the river.

Welcome.

SOMEWHERE BEYOND THE SEA (#1)

[ the first thing dana's aware of as she starts to wake is that she's on a boat of some kind, the kind she'd be able to tell if she were more cognizant of her surroundings. the second is that she's dead, or at least that she should be dead. she remembers the look on fellig's face, the sound of ritter's gun going off, pain exploding in her abdomen and slumping to the floor. fellig had been saying something to her, but she hadn't been able to hear. and now she'll never know. it occurs to her that she should be angrier about that. death was bound to catch up to her sooner or later, especially with how many times she'd evaded it. she just hadn't thought it would catch up to her like this, as the result of a stupid, simple case of mistaken identity and bad aim.

maybe it's not that she's not angry, it's that she doesn't have the time to dwell. she is on a moving sea vessel after all, or one that should be moving.

dana slowly starts to rise, uncurling from her position on the bed and taking a moment to take stock of her condition before she stands. she's still covered in blood, some of it sticks uncomfortably to her neck, plastering her shirt to her stomach. she stands, intent on finding somebody who can tell her what's happening here, instinctively reaching for the lantern resting on the table beside the bed where she'd woken up.

making her way into the hallway (and nearly tripping over some bags of sugar in the process), dana holds up her lantern, looking for anyone who can give her some information. and possibly a bathroom and change of clothes. ]

Excuse me? [ she'll occasionally pull her badge out, attempting to command authority - not particularly easy when she's covered in blood. ] Do you know what's going on here?

SOMEWHERE BEYOND THE SEA (#2)

[ so far, dana hasn't found anyone aboard who knows anything more than she does, and she's not sure whether that makes her feel better or worse. by the look of things, they're not far from land, but the vessel doesn't seem to be moving toward it. in fact, aside from the rocking that simply being in the water causes, it doesn't seem to be moving at all. it's a weird sensation; she feels vaguely sick in a way the water hasn't made her since she was a kid, unmoored and queasy. maybe it's the blood loss.

whatever it is, she's working through it, trying to find people she hasn't spotted yet and fill them in on what she knows. she's on the deck, about to approach someone else, when she spots something sticking out of the water. although it's not what's sticking out that gets her attention as much as it is the lights illuminating it, a pattern in blue repeating in a circle. ]

What the...

[ whoever she'd been about to address is temporarily forgotten as her attention is drawn to the lights. she squints at them, trying to make out what they're attached to.

they're on a lake, as far as she can tell, and she doubts it's deep enough to contain an underwater vessel. but that's what she's reminded of, looking at this thing. ]

What is that?

SOMEWHERE WAITING FOR ME

[ eventually, the engines of the ferry roar back to life and they start moving again. it's not too long before the shore is reached, or it wouldn't be, if there were a dock for the boat to land at. it looks as if one's being repaired, but dana is astonished at how stupid and dangerous it all is. the people ashore don't look surprised that the people aboard are arriving, but they don't look at all prepared to get everyone off, much less the supplies everyone's been tripping over that she has to assume are for everyone in town. ]

You've gotta be kidding me.

WE'LL MEET BEYOND THE SHORE (WILDCARD)

[ if none of those scenarios work for you, i'm open to whatever else you've got in mind, especially on shore interactions! i can be reached through PMs if you've got any questions. ]

Edited 2019-11-02 02:18 (UTC)

Stone spots the ferry early on. The light across the water catches his attention, and though everything around it is dark, he does have excellent distance vision. That's about the only kind of vision he can manage, and usually it's useless in a place this dark, but the ferry is kind of obvious.

So he shifts up into his winged form-- seventy-foot wingspan, ghostly colorless scales, a mane of spines and flexible frills around his head and down his back; to most, the first descriptor to come up will probably be "dragon"-- and glides across the water towards the boat. He circles once, then shifts mid-drop to land in his mostly-human-looking form on the deck. Good thing he's had a lot of practice shifting mid-landing and, thus, not capsizing boats of various kinds.

"Anybody need a lift to shore?" he asks cheerfully, a tall and gangly old man with no color at all to his skin and hair, bright blue eyes even if one is pretty clearly blind, no shoes, and who a moment ago had been a dragon, or something like.

Once all the people get off, one way or another, Stone sets about flying supplies back and forth from the ferry to shore. It's easy flying, the boxes and barrels and bags not really that heavy to something the size of a small house, but he still has to wind up stopping on the shore and deck of the ferry to catch his breath every trip or so. "I hate being old," he growls, mostly to himself, but readily audible to anybody nearby.

1. Waking Up in a Strange Place...Again
[For a brief moment Maes refused to open his eyes. After a year of being sent to other worlds for Astoria’s cause he’d gotten used to waking up in strange worlds on unknown missions, but something was wrong and there was a small part of him that wanted to believe if he kept his eyes closed, he wouldn’t have to accept it.

Instead he tries to focus on the past for a moment. Instead of returning back to the Temple, there had been an explosion; not just any explosion that one that seemed to rip through the very fabric of the universe. The Temple had briefly appeared before him before he’d felt something “snap” inside him. At the same time, he could just hear Astoria’s voice warning him of his “future” and what would happen when Astoria’s connection to him was finally “severed.”

You’ll go back to where you were before. I’m sorry.

Maes sighed and opened his eyes, staring up at a dark ceiling illuminated by a flickering light of a nearby lantern.]

Well...on the plus side this definitely isn’t a box six feet under.

[He sits up. Maybe he’d misjudged what was happening. He reaches for the watch at his wrist, hoping to get word from Roy or Riza or any other Circle members, but can only frown when the watch display doesn’t respond. Dead? That had never happened before. His gaze flicks to the door and Maes concentrates for a moment. When a minute passes and nothing happens he sighs and rises to his feet.]

Guess we’re going to have to go back to the old way of doing things.

[There’s a pause as he notices the lantern is not alone, it sits next to a rather peculiar tablet that seems to be just begging him to take it. He looks from it to the watch and holds back a groan.]

You have GOT to be kidding me.

[He snatches up both and storms out of the room, his stomach sinking as he tries to dismiss what he thinks might be happening here. He comes out of the room so fast that he nearly ran over someone in the hallway, he pulls back quickly though and holds up the lantern to see them better.]

Sorry. Didn’t think to check for clearance first. [beat] You just wake up too?

2. Light On the Water
[By the time Maes makes it to the upper deck his eyes have adjusted to the low light and transition into the more complete darkness above. It’s nighttime and apparently the only light is coming from the lanterns dotting the deck (everyone seems to have one), the lighthouse they are slowly approaching, and a blue flashing light in the water. Maes makes note of each, taking it all in. His hand itches to begin recording this, taking notes, but that’s difficult to do when one hand is holding a lantern.

He decides of the lights to watch, the blue one holds his attention...mostly because it appears to be sinking beneath the waves. He’s careful as he leans over the railing to watch it...and then a moment later watch as the surface of the water lights up light underwater lightning splayed below. If he didn’t know better he’d say it might be some kind of creature?

Oh, please, who was he kidding? He’d encountered weirder things by this point. Still, he takes a step back, the light from his lantern obscuring his eyes as the light glints off his glasses.]

What the hell. Is that what’s moving the ship?

3. Ferry and Back Again
[They aren’t on the ferry nearly long enough for Maes to miss land, but he feels relief all the same. He’d been stuck under water once for one of Astoria’s missions and while the merpeople had been friendly it hadn’t exactly endeared him to long ventures on the water...or under the water as the case may be. Of course, even in the dark he could tell something was...off.]

There doesn’t seem to be a way to shore.

[Squinting, he could tell that at one point there MIGHT have been a dock, but it was there no longer. As he looks out to the shore he considers his options. He’d tried teleporting, using the power Astoria had given him before, to leave the room, but that hadn’t worked. Had he lost that magic completely when his connection was severed? It didn’t feel like it. He’d trained with some of the other Circle members in their different magics to have become familiar with what his own felt like now.

But it had changed or something had changed.

So maybe he could try again or he could swim...though how that would work with a tablet and a lantern, he wasn’t sure.

If someone was standing beside him he would look at them.]

I’m going to try something that may seem odd. If it works, it’s going to make getting off the ferry and onto shore a hell of a lot easier.

[He turns his attention back to the shore, clearly visible from here. He searches for the thread of magic like he always had for the past year, finds the right place to pull and suddenly there’s a pop. Maes is off of the ferry and standing on the shore and at first even he looks a little surprised it worked. He turns back around, holding up the lantern and waving it back at the ferry.

Hopefully he didn’t just startle someone nearby looking out at the ferry.]

4. Wildcard
[Once on shore Maes will be wandering just about everywhere and willing to talk to just about anyone to get the 411 on this new world. He will quickly realize he is no longer working with the Circle on this, unless Astroia got rid of all of the old "members" except himself. If you want to show him around town or come across him playing with the tablet feel free.]

[There was a lot to take in on deck. The additional lantern lights from his fellow passengers, the flashing red light of the distant light house, and the pulsing blue light skimming the lake's surface. That last one is what holds his attention. He's so preoccupied by it that, at first, he doesn't notice the woman a few feet from him near the railing. At least, not before she speaks. He glances at her in profile, but finds he's a little mesmerized by the blue lights on the water instead.]

I have no clue. I can probably tell you what it's not or guess wildly if you prefer.

The Soldier has been kind of... loitering around the shore, watching the ferry, looking blatantly relieved but apparently not quite trusting itself to go out to it again. Not after last time. Or maybe just remembering that all that water had shorted out its arm.

But seeing Rosinante's little boat sailing back towards shore, it has a better idea than just the raft. It disappears for a moment, then comes back out of the trees with some rope, one end of which it tosses to Rosinante. Its aim is perfect, so long as Rosinante doesn't drop it.

CW: blood, brief mentions of gore, mentions of gun shot wounds

➣ I - On the morning tide / We'll hoist the sails to brave the crashing waves.

[ It's disorienting, the transition. Castiel thinks at first that he just misjudged, that somehow in beating his wings and flinging himself through space in the blink of an eye he'd managed to miscalculate the distance, and flew into the belly of a ship stocked with what seems an unreasonable amount of potatoes, rather than towards the car he intended to locate. But when he touches his midsection, the only blood left is on his clothing. There's no sign of the beatings he took, or of the messy rips and tears left behind by the bullet or Crowleys efforts to dig a stone tablet out of its hiding place from within Castiel's guts. Literally speaking, not figuratively.

Castiel is, somehow, healed, and wakes in the belly of a ship. There's a lantern next to him, and he pieces some things together even before finding answers within the tablet: his lantern is black wrought iron and delicately patterned, blue stained glass, and inside of it swirls a white blue light, moving like something caught between liquid and gaseous, brimming with energy that Castiel knows because it is himself. Inside the lantern is his grace, an angel's source of power and being.

If encountered within the ship, before making his way to the deck, Castiel strikes a worrisome picture at first glance: While the wounds have closed, his suit, shirt and trenchcoat are torn and soaked with blood around the midsection. You might observe him glancing down, frowning and then holding a hand above his midsection, where the clothins is damaged. A blue white light like the one in his lantern gathers in his palm (though unlike the lantern, it sheds no light), and a moment later the clothes are fixed, as if nothing ever happened to them - or to him. Simultaneously, the light in the lantern dims a little and grows just a little... less. Castiel notices, certainly, and realizes that in this place, he is finite. ]

Great.

➣ II - Want you come with me / And hear the ocean sigh.

[ Castiel makes it to the deck, using the trench coat's sash to fasten his lantern to his belt.

When they see the shape in the water, the lights, anyone close by might notice that a slim silver blade drops from his sleeve into the palm of his hand, and his attention does not waver from the light. Once it's gone, so is the blade, and Castiel stares off into the darkness and the fog as if he can will himself to figure out what it was on the merit of sheer determination.

He cannot, and finally sighs. ]

The computer mentioned nothing like this.

[ Referring, of course, to the tablet. ]

➣ III - And if to its deaths it called us by our names / Want you sail to the shore with me.

[ The ferry stops some distance away from shore. It's not a distance that would be impossible to swim, but of course, Castiel has no intention of doing so. He has drowned in one blackened lake before, and would rather not repeat the experience. Especially given what they've seen in the water, in the fog, and that isn't even taking into account the logistics of the lantern and his own life in death apparently being tied to it. This place may be neither Hell nor Purgatory - and is a far cry from Heaven - but Castiel has no intention of engaging the metaphysical laws of his existence here quite so crudely quite yet.

So Castiel steps towards the railings, looks upon the beach, and flies.

Here is what any normal human sees: One moment the man in the trench coat with the blue tie (always askew) is on the ferry, the next he is on the beach, and the transition is accompanied by the soft rustling of feathers and soft 'whoosh' of displaced air.

If someone observes him who sees a little more than human eyes can see, the person might see the shadows of wings gather around Castiel's body for a moment, beating once and carrying him across the distance in the blink of an eye. The wings are there, but they aren't visible on the physical realm. They are not made of shadows, merely cast them when used. A person able to observe this fact might also be aware that Castiel, unlike a human, is not his body. Rather he is something made of light and divine energy inside of the body, though he inhabits it like it's his own these days.

At any rate, if you're currently on the beach, he suddenly appears there, squinting briefly into the dark before looking back towards the ferry. ]

There's something in the water.

[ If, however, you are on of the new arrivals on the ferry; After touching base on the beach, Castiel will just as suddenly reappear on the deck with that same sound of rustling feathers and 'woosh' of displaced air. Castiel looks towards the beach, towards the blackened water, then at the person nearest him. ]

I can fly you over. It... might cause some discomfort.

[ Castiel seems largely impassive about that fact - he clearly favours practicality over worrying about personal comfort levels... Well, he does look mildly sheepish about it. Flying with an angel: Not half as pleasant as humans would largely expect.]

➣ IV - Wildcard

[ ooc: If alerted to the importance of the supplies, Castiel can fly/teleport between beach and ferry and help with those. Once everything is secured on the beach, Castiel will absolutely be out and about all over Beacon, exploring methodically and taking stock of the surroundings, and can be encountered there.

Feel free to hit me up on Plurk (

inkcharm) or Discord (inkcharm#4573) for anything you'd like to do that's not covered in thise prompts! And of course, I'd appreciate if you threw yourself at his Permissions and Opt Outs. ]

((Continued from here!))

[There doesn't seem to really be any harm to it.]

White hair, blue eyes, shorter than I am. Kind of round, spine of steel, can mess with memories. Very fond of food, but a terrible cook. Wears a waistcoat and a goddamn bowtie all the time.

[The Soldier really hates that bowtie.]

waking up (for new arrivals)

[ Waking up in a storage area isn't exactly what Buffy Summers had been expecting when she'd fallen into the earth as the Hellmouth formerly known as Sunnydale imploded. She hadn't expected to wake up at all. That last sight of the bus racing out of town, carrying Dawn, her friends, and the next generation of Slayers to safety, had been enough to allow her to be at peace with her fate. Death was claiming her again and she'd be able to rest again in Heaven.

Except this isn't heaven. Heaven hadn't swayed slightly in the chill air and it sure wasn't filled to the ceiling with crates of... apples? Potatoes? Are those eggs over in the corner? ]

What the—

[ It only takes a few moments more for her to register the lantern, the very advanced looking tablet, and the scythe at her side. This isn't her normal kind of kidnapping at all. And after a few minutes of scrolling through the program that opens on the tablet, she just sighs and closes her eyes, rubbing a hand over her face before hauling herself off the bed. With scythe in one hand and lantern in the other, she steps over wayward produce and heads out the hall and then up onto the deck. Catching sight of the dark nothingness and the eerie lighthouse in the distance, all she do is pout in frustration and complain. ]

Seriously? I save the world and I get stuck in interdimensional purgatory for it? What kind of messed up system is that?

[ Please don't mind the dirt and blood on her clothes. It's been a rough few days. ]

heavy lifting (for old residents)

Where do you want this?

[ With a crate of bagged potatoes hefted onto a shoulder like it was nothing more than an empty cardboard box, she addresses the nearest person who doesn't look overwhelmed and afraid — she's figuring that means they didn't just wake up on the ferry turned storage container. Hopefully that means they have a slightly better grasp of the situation, but honestly, she's not holding her breath. Luck just doesn't seem to be with her in Beacon — she used it all up back at the Hellmouth. ]

patrolling beacon (for all beacon bits)

[ After finding a plaid coat that looks like something a lumberjack would wear and doesn't do nearly enough to keep this California girl from freezing, Buffy sets out on a patrol of the town. She'd studied the map on her tablet but it wasn't as good as beating the streets herself, so that's what she does. The buildings are marked from the outside, the treeline watched like a hawk as she passes it with her lantern. The bonfire is squinted at and the clusters of houses are studied for signs of habitation.

All the while, she kept an eye out for movement at the edge of her lantern's light as it swings from her belt, one hand keeping a firm hold on the scythe with its pointy and sharp ends. If one of those World Eaters showed up, she'd be ready for them. Or anything else that might be out there in the darkness. It sure would be nice if the creepy fog would go away, though. ]

wildcard

[ It's the midnight hour, just throw something at me. Also, please check out Buffy's permissions and opt-outs! ]

Edited 2019-11-02 06:09 (UTC)

[A vain hope. Hughes' impressive teleportation is signaled by a sharp "woah, shit!" as Masaomi and the crate of perishables balanced on his shoulder veer dangerously left. If Hughes doesn't catch the flailing teen in time, someone might just lose out on dinner.]

[ Ellever is out in the hallway when she hears a door fly open, leaning heavily against the wall, breathing hard with her wrought iron lantern in one hand. There's a dangerous cocktail of drugs in her bloodstream that would kill anyone else, the right concoction for putting someone to sleep, and it has yet to release its grip. She needs to know what's out here, though; she can't stay in that room one second longer.

She's not exactly dressed for the night in her paisley blouse and shorts, feet bare on the floor, but the cold has yet to sink in. Turning her head, she sinks one shoulder heavily into the wall so that she can get a good look behind her. ]

Uh. [ A hard blink. ] I don't know. Are you okay?

[Masaomi has been doing his absolute best to be productive in all this. Short of diving into the depths, he has done all he can to lead every unloaded crate safely to dry land. And yet, here he is, desperately attempting not to drop an armload of empty thermoses when some weirdo in a trenchcoat appears out of thin fucking air.

For the second time tonight.]

I'll tell you all about what's in the water if you tell me something first.

[He shoots back as soon as he regains his balance.]

Why can all of you do that?!

Moments ago, Ellever had been shivering and contemplating the shore. But the second a dark shape had begun to fly over the water, all of her physical discomfort -- of which there's plenty -- had vanished. Her breath catches in her throat. Not out of fear, but of intense and immediate fascination. Though she hasn't seen anything quite like Stone before, even on her wildest outings, and the back of her brain does attempt to give her pause.

A decent attempt. Not a great one.

Her eyes are riveted as the shape suddenly materializes into a man, standing on deck, asking his question as though he had just popped out of his car. Then a breeze cuts across Ellever's meager blouse and shorts and she's rudely reminded that she's more than a pair of eyes. Shivering, she blinks, and her social brain gets left behind as she takes a few steps closer. Why introduce yourself when you have a thousand questions instead?

"Can you do that all the time?" she wonders. There's not a single ounce of fear in her gaze, still.

[ Leaning on the ferry's railing is an excellent way to stay on your feet when something in your bloodstream is trying to shut your entire body down. But Ellever had to get out here, had to see where she was, and... most importantly, it seems, had to see the eerie lights in the water.

She notices another person on the deck, of course, but their silhouette seems much less important than trying to observe everything that she can about the lights. She staggers by Castiel, like her muscles have been replaced with sand, and then puts one elbow up on the railing. The other holds a wrought black iron lantern with amber glass, which she holds casually, the object forgotten in recent developments. Her gaze is entranced until the lights fade, and then she glances over at the man. Another lantern-holder.

The gears in her head are turning furiously. ]

You saw that too, right?

[Masaomi himself is lugging a large bucket of pickles to shore when he hears the sweet lure of a woman's voice. And damn is she one intense woman. He'd whistle if he didn't think it would get him crushed beneath several bags of potatoes.]

Locked deep within my stricken heart!

[He cheers with a little half-twirl. It's only slightly less embarrassing.]

Edited 2019-11-02 07:59 (UTC)

[Buffy isn't the only one patrolling. There's a handful of others who do the same. Right now, one of those others is walking in a counter-direction to her own prowl with a similarly purposeful gait, just barely visible through the fog, lantern almost entirely shuttered up. The light from Buffy's own lantern glints off metal. A blade? Armoring? The closed-off lantern itself? Hard to tell in the dim light.

(Obviously it's a metal arm, but that might not even be something Buffy would consider at first glance.)

As she gets closer, though, the figure-- bigger than she is, not that that's hard to do really, and dressed in dark clothes-- stops short and looks her direction intently.]

arrival

[Well, Newt can swim, so that's lucky, he supposes... But before he disembarks from the ferry, he's going to learn everything he possibly can about his new situation—like, where the hell he even is, for starters. Last thing he remembers is drifting with Mutavore's brain, and then... he woke up here, apparently having missed some super crazy shit happening as the ferry rolled in. Already off to an amazing start.

Right, so, he's sitting crosslegged on the roof of the ferry's bridge, going through every bit of info his tablet has to offer. And should you try to unload any of the supplies in the big pile he used to climb up here...]

Hey! Leave that there. There's plenty of other crap to unload.

[Someone's crabby.]

beach

[Then, later, he's drenched and lying on the beach like an angry starfish, his lantern and tablet chucked unceremoniously into the sand next to him.]

I don't recognize these stars.

[He says it absently. Is he talking to you? Tough to say. In any case, given the tone, it seems that the stars are the thing that tips him off to being well and truly fucked. Super!]

bonfire square

[And now he's hunkered in Bonfire Square, sitting at the edge of the bonfire much to Rastus's annoyance, trying to take apart his lantern with some pliers. He should not being doing this, especially given that this brand of nonsense was what landed him here in the first place, but that isn't stopping the pursuit of knowledge.]

You got a magnet or something?

[It's muffled, said around the screwdriver clenched between his teeth. He's not making much progress in his quest to dismantle his life force or whatever you want to call it.]

wildcard

[hit me with whatever! newt can be found flitting about grumpily pretty much anywhere in town, given that he's loathe to be unfamiliar with his surroundings. otherwise, if you want to plan something, catch me on plurk or discord or my ooc intro!]

[Mary slithers up beside him like a sand snake, nestling into the sand on her elbows before flipping over to look up at the stars, laying down in the opposite direction from Newt. She's covered in sand, doesn't care, and folds her hands primly on her stomach.]

Is that bad?

[That sure is her lab door ajar as Rosalind comes up the pathway.

It's not entirely unusual. The door sticks, requiring a far harder shove than you'd expect in order to stay closed. But someone nosing around wouldn't know that, would they? Which begs the question: what kind of idiot is poking around her lab? Surely all who've been here know better-- and the newcomers ought to be preoccupied with their own deaths for at least a day or two.

But here we are.

She nudges the door open and oh, there he is: staring around her lab as though he's evaluating it, bold as brass.]

Do you always break into someone's private laboratory, or has death rendered you somehow unable to observe common social niceties?

[Eventually, if she travels far enough to reach Boneset park, she might hear what sounds like...the gentle sniffles and sobs of a child? Mary's climbed inside of the somewhat decrepit-looking jungle gym, curled around the light of her own lantern. She doesn't seem to notice anyone else get closer. Or maybe she does, and has just decided to pretend otherwise.]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 65

INTRO LOG: NOVEMBER

Ellever Brandt | OTA

Rosinante | OTA

Midge Maisel | OTA

iv. do you have regrets yet? cw. scars.

iii.

iii; hey u

dana scully, OTA (cw: death by gunshot)

Stone | OTA

maes hughes | open and apologies for tl;dr

2

2

Castiel | OTA

IV

buffy summers; open

3;

i.

iii;

no subject

II

heavy lifting;

Patrolling Beacon

newt geiszler | ota!

stars n shit

wildcard;

on patrol