INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

[inthenightmods]

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER
IF I HAD A HEART

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: december 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. robin posts a bulletin.
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 glowing 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.

•••
The ferry has barely docked when everyone's tablets will ping: A new weekly bulletin has been posted!

...Aaaaaanyway, luckily for all the 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! You've happened to come at a chaotic time, as we've just wrapped up a rather large event. Half the town was stuck in a dreamland version of past Beacon, where they explored for clues about the town's history. The other half stayed awake and defended the town from a brutal onslaught of green-eyed, hallucination-inducing forest spirits. The town's pretty haggard after all that, so hey, there's a conversation starter! It'll be good to have some fresh faces around to help with the recovery process.

You can check out the various Enter Mr. Sandman event posts in the OOC and log comms if you're curious, and plenty of the details will likely come up ICly, as well! The aftermath is just beginning, and we're so glad to have you along for the ride. :)

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

• The monthly store restock
  
• For Eliot: A carton of cigarettes
  
• For Prompto: 17 pairs of reading glasses
  
• For Eleven: A pair of walkie-talkies, and enough batteries to last for 3 months of casual use
  
• For Aziraphale: 12 drums, 11 lead pipes, 10 pairs of shoes, 9 wilting corsages, 8 bottles of milk, 7 taxidermy swans, 6 goose eggs, 5 stale onion rings, 4 bins full of duck armies, 3 dead chickens, 2 turtles, and a whole tree, though it's long dead... and strung with lights and garlands and holiday ornaments!
  
• For Kol: A book
  
• For Crowley: Peppermint extract, cream of tartar, a candy thermometer, a tin of cocoa, graham crackers, a generic bottle of red wine, a t-shirt with a crown logo on it, a book of love poems, and the goods
  
• For Eleven: An assortment of wrapping paper, gift tags, ribbons, bows, and gift bags.
  
• A lot of medical supplies. The supplies are plentiful enough that everyone may handwave finding common first aid supplies that will help to triage injuries sustained during the Enter Mr. Sandman event. The supplies won't immediately cure wounds, but they will help to prevent infection and ensure proper healing. There's even an assortment of painkillers, ranging from over the counter pills to IV morphine (though, hm, it seems each character will only be able to find one dose of the hospital-grade stuff, no matter how hard they search)

If you submitted an item request last month and we've missed it here, let us know!

QUICKNAV
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Comments

I Post-Sandman

[onlyeverdoubted]

As far as Bodhi is concerned, he fell asleep at an odd time and had a slightly odd and mildly disconcerting dream about not much. He wakes in an unfamiliar and unexpected place in the dark, but that might just be how Tuesdays go around here. He stirs without any particular energy or distress, pausing to look around him more out of habit than fear and only starting a little when he spots Soldat. He raises a cautious hand, forced by the other man's persistence into seeing the odd presence as friendly in the midst of all the strangeness here.

[worthallthis]

It's not as dark as it could be, with all the sleepers' lanterns gathered around by their beds. And a handful of defenders near windows, by the kitchen, or sitting at the remaining tables that haven't been torn apart to board up windows or set by the stairs as part of a barricade. Just about everybody is injured.

The Soldier had working steadily through some soup as they prowled around the inside wall of the room, looking on edge and tired, but the first stirrings have them standing stock still staring at them all. Kind of like they can't quite believe what they're seeing. By the time Bodhi's actually aware, they've checked several pulses (including his own), but aren't actively hovering over him. Just hovering nearby, on their knees, in case anyone needs something. Lunch is entirely forgotten, bowl set to one side, well away from former-sleepers' potential kicking or knocking over.

There's a hesitant, tired smile. "Bodhi. Are you actually. Jesus, you're awake."

[onlyeverdoubted]

Bodhi blinks dazedly at Soldat a moment, then nods. It's a little stiff, the way he feels after sleeping too long in pilot's chairs rather than beds, or just at a funny angle after a night out. He puts that down to, well, being in a completely different place than he last remembers. The dream, quietly eerie and rather nonsensical, is already fading. "I, um." It's not an accomplishment. Something must be wrong. "What?"

[worthallthis]

The Soldier sits back a little more on their heels, not wanting to crowd him. But not wanting to move too far away, either. It's such a relief, it almost weighs them down, like maybe it's their turn to sleep for two weeks. "You were asleep. Fourteen days. You and a bunch of others."

[onlyeverdoubted]

"For--Fourteen days?" He's not even sure how to feel. That seems like it shouldn't be physiologically possible, but that's not an argument around here. He tries to focus instead on making it feel real, but he can't. "Kriff." It's a weak response, but he has no idea what a proportionate one would be like.

[worthallthis]

They're just gonna assume that's a swear word from whatever part of the universe Bodhi is from. They nod in sober agreement. "And while you slept, the spirits attacked the rest of us. Seems like they were angry we didn't all eat." The Soldier even has some bandages peeking out from under their clothes here and there, though they seem to be moving easily enough, and don't look in pain. "How do you feel?"

[onlyeverdoubted]

It's hardly a curse at all, but he's not comfortable enough around Soldat not to watch his language. The equivalent of "darn." But it's a universal, so he's not thinking about it. Just assessing the... lack of damage, while trying to process all the new impossible information. "I'm fine." Which is what he would say as long as he wasn't actively and visibly bleeding to death. "Are you alright?"

[worthallthis]

The Soldier shrugs a little. The current bandages are on the flesh arm under two layers, and on one leg visible through a tear in the jeans they're wearing. "Could be worse. I heal very quickly." Not as quickly as they... should... it seems like. Without Crowley tossing healing at them every few minutes. But faster than Rosinante and the other regular humans, still. "Can you stand?" After two weeks of lying still, that's a valid question. Also: "Are you hungry? Two weeks of sleeping, and my stomach would be trying to wrap around my spine."

[onlyeverdoubted]

Even Bodhi can tell when he'd be delivering one too many I'm fines in a row. He hasn't even thought about that, though. He feels... unpleasant, but not much worse than he would after any night spent at an uncomfortable angle. Really sleeping for two weeks should have left him, well, dead, so something must have been at work. He supposes he should call that magic.

"Probably." He chooses the question that seems simplest. He can stand. There's nothing stopping him. He gets his hands under him and shoves. Little unsteady. Maybe shouldn't stand so fast. But he pushes himself to his knees and then up with sheer stubbornness.

[worthallthis]

Probably magic, yeah. The Soldier would have compared it to cryofreeze, except there's no ice. Just the unconscious part. They climb to their own feet, hovering just within reach in case Bodhi staggers or falls over or something. "Take it slow," they suggest. "There's no rush."

[onlyeverdoubted]

The existence of a rush isn't really relevant here. He's just busy demonstrating how fine he is and how nobody needs to worry or pay attention. He doesn't actually fall over, but he does waver and have to catch himself.

"I feel like two weeks is, um, it's a bit to... c-catch up on," he says by way of defense.

[worthallthis]

He'll get a feather-light touch of support to one elbow-- the flesh hand rather than the metal one-- then once he's stable the hand pulls back. They understand not wanting support, or fuss, but dammit it's been two weeks. The Soldier is allowed a little fuss. "It will all still be there in two minutes more while you get your balance and stretch out a little bit." They watch Bodhi's feet, as if half-expecting them to not hold his weight. "Besides. It was mostly fighting, not something you really need to catch up on. And a network post that you can catch up on. While sitting down."

[onlyeverdoubted]

Bodhi responds to the soft touch like he's been jabbed by a hot poker, flinching away violently. And then it all smooths away, calm and collected and normal, no objections voiced or even admitted to. "Sure, uh, some reading to do, I guess." He sounds a little flustered, admittedly, but he's pretending very hard that he's fine, and that should count for something. "Still. Seems... Seems like there should... Be something, yeah?"

[worthallthis]

Welp. The Soldier is absolutely never doing that again. They're not good with touch, but they're better than that, especially when telegraphed that well by the other person. They ease back, out of touching range, to silently tell Bodhi he's safe. "I can tell you about the spirits that attacked, if you want. We did learn a few things about them. I died once. That was strange."

[onlyeverdoubted]

He pretends not to notice, just like he pretended not to have been frightened in the first place. "That actually sounds useful, yeah."

[worthallthis]

"Come on. I'll tell you while I get you something." They give Bodhi plenty of room as they move around him, back towards the kitchen. Everyone is is waking up, too, other defenders speaking with them, helping them up. There needs to be enough food in the kitchen for everyone, if they're all hungry. Even if they aren't. It's something to do, to keep their hands busy.

"They came out of the forest right after everyone who ate. Fell asleep," they say, making sure to walk slow enough for Bodhi, listening for his footsteps. "The spirits did. There were a lot of them, at first."

[onlyeverdoubted]

Bodhi trails after him, mostly steady. He does feel lousy, just not nearly as bad as he should. "And they--usually they don't, yeah? I mean, they stay in the forest?" Or is he completely wrong? He got used to a lot of things right away, but spirits is still hard to get his head around.

[worthallthis]

"There have been attacks. Usually isolated, when people go out into the forest. But the hallucinations last month, those were caused by spirits," the Soldier says, moving barricade bits away from the kitchen doors and heading in. There's still stew in the pot, enough for Bodhi, and it's warm when everything outside is cold. They fill a bowl with that for now. "Kind of an attack. And one at a party thing, before I came here. Never the spirits who live here with us, always different ones."

[onlyeverdoubted]

No reason to expect spirits to be homogeneous. The question is more the process of re-aligning his expectations. He's been careful of the forest because the forest was supposed to be the danger zone. It's actually sort of freeing to find that's not so. If you might be fucked whatever you do, you do what you have to. This comports with his approach to life. "So was the food--it was probably magic, not, um, drugged or anything." More thinking out loud. Stupid magic.

[worthallthis]

"Probably not drugged, no. It affected humans, vampires, that old man who turns into a dragon-thing, the purple one with the horns, and a robot. So it couldn't have been drugs." Not if it affected so many different species the exact same way. They hesitate only a moment before filling a second bowl for themselves, offering one to Bodhi, spoon included. "It was less like sleep. More like suspended animation. Cryofreeze without the freeze."

[onlyeverdoubted]

He takes it belatedly, looking a bit bemused as he often does at small kindnesses. He knows he must be hungry more than he feels like he is, but that happens to him all the time. Can't blame that on spirits.

"No, that would make too much sense." The whole idea of magic continues to frustrate him. The Force is consistent and simple in action, however complex at the conceptual level. He gets that. And he could get his head around a drug. But magic can apparently mean anything, and that's the same as meaning nothing.

[worthallthis]

It's okay, if the Soldier weren't used to basically everything being bewildering and nobody giving them complete intel, they'd probably be frustrated, too. "There's probably rules," they say, not without sympathy. "We just don't know enough to work them out. Maybe when the friendly spirits come back. We can ask." They have some of their own bowl, because when is the Soldier not hungry? (Spoiler: never.)

[onlyeverdoubted]

"Maybe." He swallows, and suddenly he's glad he has the rest of the bowl. Maybe he's not hasn't-eaten-in-two weeks hungry. Some kind of stasis had to have occurred. But he is hungry. "Thanks." He doesn't know how to thank someone for keeping an eye on a bunch of comatose bodies, so he'll focus on the dinner.

[worthallthis]

"You're welcome," the Soldier answers. Then they frown a little at their own bowl, adding, "Keeping people fed. Made it all seem a little better, while it was happening. Sometimes people forgot, you know. Didn't think about eating." Crazy as that seems to someone who never forgets about being hungry for more than am hour or two at most, and that mostly only after eating a whole lot, or apparently right after dying.

[onlyeverdoubted]

Bodhi tries to look like someone who'd never forget to eat all day. Or two. "Yeah, uh, well, this place is... never short on food." More reasons that, two weeks of sleep or no, this is really the most calming and comfortable existence he's had... ever.