logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

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!

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[Xayah rolls her eyes]

He ought to learn to stop himself first before doing something stupid.

[She warned him. Maybe she should get a leash for him. But she's glad it makes Bucky smile. So she nods,] He cares about you. It's been a while since I saw humans take care of each other and not chase the power.

[They stop at the crossroads where one path leads to her house and other to his.]

I'll be heading this way. Thanks for making me company.

He's not human. And I'm... a very weird human.

[Look, they might not be a person, but they can at least claim the species. It's a step. Kind of.]

But there are some good ones here. Better than where I come from.

[They stop when she does, and offer,]

I can walk with you the rest of the way. Talking helps.

What's wrong with being weird? [She shrugs.] If everything was one color it would be dull.

[Xayah shakes her head,] I've learned that humans here are vastly different from ones from my home. So... I suppose I can work with that.

[At his offer, she accepts,] It's down this row. [Maybe five-minute walk from here. The cabin is low and it would be cute if the vines on the walls could actually bloom and get leaves. This way it just looks a bit creepy.]

[That's not a question the Soldier has pretty much ever had thrown at them, so they frown and consider it, even as they pick up walking again.]

Being weird. It tends to make people react. Badly. To the things I say and do. Like there's something wrong with me.

[There kind of is a lot wrong with them, they're pretty sure. They've been told so many times that they need to change things about themselves, they the way they react and think isn't right.]

I make people uncomfortable. Or sad.

I don't think anything's wrong with you. [She says, and she means it. Sure, his speech pattern is odd, but she's heard worse. It's his actions that stand out and making things better for all of them. And she can't see that as a bad thing.]

You have to accept that not everyone will like you. But there will always be those that do. Focus on them, because they're worthy.

Anyone else, fuck them. You don't need them.

[That's an alien mindset. The Soldier always had to keep the handlers and technicians appeased, couldn't risk being actively disliked, couldn't risk standing out and being punished for it. (Pretty sure we did risk it. Sometimes. If you needed a muzzle to keep from biting people, yeah, you did.) But it still runs against their programming, which has only loosened a little in small ways after their death.

And the Sergeant... there's something about his programming, under the shit HYDRA put in there, from the days Before, that says he sought out affection and affirmation, too. From many people.

The Soldier is silent a long moment. Finally, they repeat, a little questioningly:]

You don't think anything is wrong with me.

[It's a mindset she grew up with. To be honest, most people don't like her (for obvious reasons) and the feeling is mutual. But people that did like her were ones she cherished. Ones that suffered by the hand of Noxians.

Xayah shakes her head.]

No, I don't. In fact, you are a more likeable person than me. I'm the weirder one, walking around with wings and feather ears and claws.

[She gives him a half-smirk,] And I don't give a shit who likes it and who doesn't. It's me.

And you are you. You are Soldier, and there's no one else like you anywhere. If people like it, good, if they don't, also good. You won't feel bad when you kick their asses later.

Oh.

[The Soldier really doesn't get a lot of affirmations that they're good just how they are. Everyone wants them to improve, get "better", learn to be a person or to get a proper name. Even the kindest of their friends and handlers still have that want in them, all the time. Hearing someone say, out loud, that nothing has to change, that they're just fine right here and now....

Excuse the Soldier a moment while they stare at the ground for several steps, and wipe their eyes with the back of the flesh hand when their vision gets fuzzy with a few tears. It's the tiredness making things feel more profound than they really are, maybe. (Sure, pal. We'll let that slide.)]

That's. That's good. I'm good at kicking people's asses.

[That's not anywhere near what they want to say, but saying what they might want to will just making the crying keep going, they're pretty sure.]

[Ah. She didn't really expect that kind of reaction.

Xayah remains silent and keeps her gaze on the road, or on the forest and houses as they walk, not bringing it up. She wouldn't want people to bring up these things to her when, or if, they happen.

But it's good. She knows how it feels to be stranger in your own skin; hunted down because you "look" expensive, people pointing at you and calling you a freak. It leaves a mark. Some don't deal with it, some deal with it in a bad way (like she did). Hopefully, this restores a bit of confidence in him.]

Yup. I know. I saw.

[They give a weak chuckle, then sniff once, and gets the tears back under control. Xayah's house, covered in vines as it is, is just up ahead. They slow a little, wanting enough time to ask,]

Are we friends, Xayah?

[Surely only a friend would say that they're fine just like they are, now. No improvements necessary. But they want to make sure. Assuming with Rosinante pissed him off, and they don't want to do that again.]

[She slows down as well, turning a bit to look at him.]

You had my back, I had yours. I don't do that just for anyone, you know. I'm picky like that.

[Picky about humans, she wants to say, but it sounds more fun like this. But she also gives him a nod.]

So yeah. I think we are.

[She grins, and pulls her hands out from underneath her winged cloak, cracking her knuckles with a small laugh,] If we aren't, well, I guess I'll have to change your mind.

[...he understands a joke, right?]

[For a moment they stare at her with something like consternation on their face, like maybe hey don't get the joke, but comprehension visibly dawns before it can get awkward. The Soldier grins.]

Don't think it'll come to that. I ain't hard to convince.

[Bit of Brooklyn, there, but she'll have heard that happen now and then over the course of the past few weeks, guarding the inn together.]

[Phew. Okay, that was almost a bust but thankfully he got it. And she laughs a bit as well.]

That's good to hear~

[She doesn't mind the accent at all. It suits him; it feels like he's coming out of his shell bit by bit. She stops in front of her house, and gives him a nod.]

Thanks for the escort. I'll see you later?

[The grin softens into a kinder sort of smile.]

Yes. Sleep well, Xayah.

[They're gonna go crash, too. Aziraphale is safe at the church, the newbies are safely off the boat, and they can take a few hours and sleep all this stupid off. (Or half the day/night/whatever.) So once she's safely inside, they turn and meander off towards their own house. Time for some quality time with the couch and a couple blankets.]

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

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