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!

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

( Carmilla is really not interested in imagining what being here for an extended period will be like. she already hates it here, and has no clue what to do with herself. if it was possible to entice the world-ending mountain-sized monsters to show up a little faster, she'd be tempted.

she wouldn't do it, probably. but she would be tempted.

Carm glances back at Ellever's way. she's got a nice smile, she muses blandly. ) Having worse has never stopped me from bitching about present circumstance, sugar, but that's a nice thought.

[ Another chortle bubbles out of Ellever. ]

Not a silver linings person, huh? [ She shrugs amiably. ] Complaining about stuff just feels good sometimes. I'd never suggest only saying good things when we live... here.

[ One hand sways out widely, gesturing to Beacon as a whole. There are nice and interesting people, sure, but there's also the rest of it. People died. That most of them come back is the only good part of that statement. ]

Besides, every time I think "it could be worse" I wonder if I'm jinxing us.

Complaining is a talent of mine. ( she's had centuries to practice her whining, she's a master. she could manage to complain about even the best of situations, just give her a chance and she'd find something to bitch about. at least usually her cattiness is amusing, instead of just blandly whiny.

at least she's got plenty of material for her bad attitude here. Beacon has plenty to complain about, there's literally nothing about this place that she likes... except the open bar and constant moody darkness, which she happens to thrive in. )

Yeah, 100%, never say it could be worse. Shit always hits the fan. ( she's learned from years of experience to never ever imply things could be worse. things always massively implode after that. )

[ Ellever nods, extending an arm in front of her to inspect the damage ⁠— things seem to be calming down a tiny bit after the antiseptic, and she's glad for any change. She's also glad that they can agree that that phrase just goads reality on. ]

A talent, huh? Would you take it up to a talent show?

[ She's just joking, expression too soft to mean anything by it. If they can't joke (or complain) about things, are they even alive? ]

Sounds a little too much like effort to me, sunshine.

( that's not her speed, she prefers to coast through her afterlife as much as possible. primetime complaining is basically just standup comedy, and while she's got a biting sense of humor and could probably do it if she wanted to... she doesn't. it's putting out more energy than she's inclined to put towards something that would largely benefit others. she's got enough brain cells to rub together that she can tell it was just a joke, at least, and plays back in relative kind.. )

I like to keep my exceptional talents to small and personal audiences. ( she's not a smiler, but it's clear that she's clearly not offended, either. it takes a hell of a lot more to do that, truth be told. that said, the girl seems to have her wound-swabbing in relative order, and Carmilla wants to keep poking around town. so, she shifts to her feet. )

Good luck with the first aid, I need to go scare out a place to sleep. Whenever that happens, considering the eternal darkness and everything.

[ She laughs softly. ]

Thanks.

[ Ellever's managing not to make a complete mess out of her numerous wounds, which is a real plus considering she's covered in them. Also, everyone back home would laugh at her, the operations manager, being defeated by the concept of first aid. Wounds are a foreign concept to someone who's never so much as had a broken bone or sliced skin before now. She wasn't supposed to have any injuries... at least, before the end of the world. ]

I'm Elle, by the way. [ Guess who often spaces out and doesn't introduce herself? This lady. ] Don't be a stranger.

( being a stranger is sort of her style, flitting in and out of lives before anyone pinned too much attention on how she didn't age or her weird tendency to subsist only on "soy milk", but that's not a problem here, is it? it's worth noting, though that's only half of why Carmilla avoids attachments. the aversion she has to losing them sounds like it'd be just as uncomfortable here, with cute dirty blondes left to clean up a dozen wounds by dim firelight.

still, she manages a sarcastic salute in Ellever's direction. )

Carmilla. ( she didn't forget to introduce herself, she just... . . . . chose not to. which is worse. ) See you around, cutie. ( and with that, she'll slink into the dark like she's a part of it.

honestly, she kind of is. )

INTRO LOG: DECEMBER

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject