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logsinthenight2020-01-01 06:33 pm
inthenightmods) wrote in logsinthenight2020-01-01 06:33 pm
INTRO LOG: JANUARY
INTRO LOG: JANUARY
ALLES NEU
characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: january 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. the forest spirits engage in some new year's shenanigans.
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.•••
A small crowd of forest spirits have shown up at the harbor to welcome the newcomers and to ring in the new year! They are very excited to promote and partake in the following traditions:
- Making lots of noise! Forest spirits are passing out a variety of noisemakers of all shapes and sizes with which to create a lively ruckus. Happy year!!!
- Setting off fireworks! Sort of! More like firecrackers, sparklers, and bottle rockets, but close enough, right? None of them cast light, but they're still pretty glowy things.
- Hanging bunches of onions from doorways! And also trees! And fences! And people! Hanging onions on everything! The more onions the better! Where did they get all of these onions!
- Smashing stuff! Specifically, the forest spirits are yeeting whole-ass pomegranates into doors and smashing every plate they can get their hands on before sweeping the debris into a pile. In fact, the forest spirits seem to be having small contests to see who can amass the largest pile of broken kitchenware. Hide your fruits and fine china, Beacon bits, because the spirits have a loose definition of "pomegranate" and "plate".
- Banging loaves of bread against walls! Maybe the tradition doesn't call for actual destruction or maybe it's just hard to smash a loaf of bread, but forest spirits are definitely running through town whapping hunks of bread on anything (and anyone) they run into. Some of the loaves even have coins and... acorns? Inside? Sure. All the better to bruise you with.
- Tossing flowers into the lake! They're all white flowers... mostly? Flowers are tough to come by this time of year, so it's more like white "anything that looks like a flower"s that are getting hucked into the water.
- Ringing bells! A couple of forest spirits have been tasked with scurrying up into the rafters of the church and town hall's clock tower, ringing the bells madly. Problem is, the spirits are trying to count and coordinate how many bell chimes peel through the town, but counting is hard and so is coordinating across a distance. So, uh, the bells are just kind of going hog wild for the day.
- Melting lead! One forest spirit covered in fur with a long tongue lolling out from their mask seems to be in charge of a lead-melting booth, where lantern-havers can melt bits of lead over a torch borrowed from the bonfire. The molten lead is then dropped into the lake and fished out with the spirits long, long tongue, after which they'll examine the lead's shape and hoot... something at whoever's dropped it in. A fortune for the new year? Tough to say. Even the other forest spirits don't seen to be able to understand this tonguey gent.
- Drinking burnt stuff! Be prepared for a forest spirit to run up and shove a scrap of paper and a glass of something bubbly into your hands. The idea, after some miming from the forest spirit, seems to be to write a wish or resolution onto the piece of paper, burn it in a bonfire torch, and mix the ashes with the glass of... something. Maybe you got lucky and it's champagne, but there's no telling what's in that glass. Bottoms up, though. You have to drink your wish to make it come true!
- Burning stuff! The forest spirits are making cute little dolls of each other and other folks in town! How cute! Less cute is that these cute little effigies are getting chucked right into the bonfire and swallowed up by the flames. Rastus is moderately distressed by this development, though he won't stop you from making your own effigies to burn.
By the end of the week, the forest spirits will have cleaned up their festivities, but for now, eh, get in the spirit of the holiday. It's a new year, after all.
Luckily for all the newcomers who may find themselves horribly confused by this welcome committee, their tablets 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! We're super jazzed to kick off the new year with a fresh crop of new players and characters.
For these New Year's festivities, you're all welcome to play out your own forest spirit interactions! NPC away, my dudes.
Go ahead and introduce yourselves on the OOC intro, and as you settle in, we'd like to ease everyone's minds with a little spoiler: More housing will be unlocked soon! A location discovery announcement will go up in the next week or so, whenever that exploration wraps up, and a whole crop of new housing options will then be made available. In the meantime, don't stress about finding lodging for your character. So long as everyone's settled by the end of the month, we're good to go!
DELIVERIES
The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:
- The monthly store restock
- For Midge: A menorah, a seder plate, a mezuzah, and a siddur
- For Rosalind: A dozen elegant eyepatches and the equipment necessary for her to construct her Lutece device
- For Hux: Equipment and tools to create mouse droids
- For Aziraphale: A fountain pen and two bottles of blue ink
- For Maes: A large crate full of collapsible cots and sleeping blankets, and an additional crate of various bedding and pillows
- For Crowley: A book of prophecies from home, a bottle of white wine, a box of various sizes of PVC tubing, a water pump, the goods, and a variety pack of seeds
- For Bucky: Bucky's armored vest from home
- For Daylight: A dozen packets of Soldiers' Kisses seeds
- For Rosinante: Two newspapers from Rosinante's home published in the months after his death, three bottles of nail polish (red, green, and pink), four cartons of cigarettes, and a crate full of various winter equipment
- For Peter: Webware
- For Rhys: A froyo machine
- For Kol: Kol's daylight ring from home
- For Elektra: A make-up case with a full set of make-up, six sets of good quality clothing (three for men and three for women), two bottles of fresh honey, three bags of coffee, and a Braille Bible (which comes in the form of seven very thick volumes)
- For Scully: A poster, three sets of medical scrubs, two sets of silk pajamas, and a bag with enough medical supplies to treat 5 major injuries or 10 minor injuries
- For Matt: An orchid-scented perfume, twin sai, a bottle of fancy tequila, three classic rock records, and a record player
- For Ignis: A violin, two dozen containers of various spices, a dozen skeins of knitting wool, and a dozen spools of colorful thread
- For Javert: A dozen outfits comprised of all 19th century clothing and a crate full of bedding materials
If you submitted an item request last month and we've missed it here, let us know!
| QUICKNAV | |||
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vanitas | kingdom hearts | ota
[ When the lighthouse turns red and the ferry comes in, Vanitas used to make a habit of creeping to the shore and stealing away the supplies before they would make it up to the general store. Now, he can't even make it down the slope of the hill to the docks without the white noise starting to fade in to his head, making him act as irrationally as he knows he's being, and unable to stop it.
So, instead, he's turned his attention to everything else going on. Namely, causing as much chaos as possible.
The spirits are throwing pomegranates into buildings and through windows, and Vanitas has evidently decided to help them— by taking aim at people in town as much as making targets of everything. He's got a strong arm, too, so anyone unfortunate to be actually struck by a pomegranate instead of feeling the narrow woosh of one sailing by probably won't be pleased. ]
Sorry. [ He doesn't sound at all sorry, smirking and tossing another pomegranate up and down in his gloved hand. ] Didn't see you there.
voodoo dolls
[ Vanitas is sitting with a group of spirits and sucking on a lollipop. Between his legs he's tying together an effigy, the same as the rest of them. It's probably a strange sight, given how many times he's met his end at the hands of these very creatures, but at least he isn't throwing things at people anymore.
The figure he's making wont' look familiar to anyone in Beacon, but that doesn't matter. Only Vanitas needs to know that the doll he's making has an uncanny likeness to Ventus. ]
this might be a good spot to find some ingredients
[ He doesn't cook— but someone he spends a lot of time with does. Vanitas isn't sure how many onions someone might need to make anything. They look kind of like stripey tomatoes, or something. So maybe Bruce would want a whole bushel of them to cook?
He reaches up to pull one off where it dangles from an over hang, and turns just slightly to hand it off to the train of Unversed following him. A good four or five of them, each with their own bundle of onions. It's a little comical, given Vanitas is wearing an overlarge cable-knit jumper that goes well passed his wrists and has a scarf wrapped up around his mouth to combat the cold. ]
target practice
Of course, usually it wasn't such a mess on the way. The Spirits had been particularly energetic lately despite the cold and instead of throwing snowballs they were throwing pomegranates, plates, and even smacking things with loaves of bread. So far he hadn't had any problems avoiding the mess though, taking a bit of a longer way around in hopes of avoiding the rather food-specific food fight.
And then one hits him square on his hand. He hisses in pain and stumbles at the sudden imbalance, some of the crate's contents spilling out onto the road as he catches himself. Luckily it's nothing breakable, but Jason's eyes immediately go to whoever threw it.
He frowns, adjusting his grip on the box and (for the moment) taking him at his word.
After all, his only interactions with Vanitas up until now had been to fight together.]
It's fine. Though if you're going to be joining in their celebrations maybe pull back on your pitching arm.
[It had stung, though mainly it had caught him by surprise. He was more durable than most people here and he didn't want to see anyone appear in the obituary because they'd taken a pomegranate the wrong way.]
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He didn't feel that way now, exactly, but he was as close to normal feeling as he'd been in some time. At least for this brief moment, amidst the chaos. He catches the pomegranate again and again, the sound steady like a heartbeat. ]
The spirits don't pull any punches.
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You're not a spirit. They don't always seem to understand how their actions are perceived. I'm pretty sure you do.
[Jason adjusted his grip on the crate, no longer carrying it with two hands but balancing it on his shoulder instead, leaving a hand free. He then proceeded to finish his trek towards the store up ahead. Though he's much more alert now, demigod senses pinged.]
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Then, when he's a short distance away, Vanitas rears back and hucks the pomegranate at full speed directly at the crate Jason is holding in his hand. There's an inhuman amount of force behind the impact, though whether that means Jason will drop the crate because it's center of gravity is knocked off balance or not isn't something Vanitas will be able to tell. ]
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Somehow he knew this was going to happen and it was why he had stayed on alert. He might not know Vanitas that personally, but the guy had always reminded him of some of the less reputable or unfriendly types at Camp Jupiter. Many of the member of the First Cohort, for instance, made it their personal mission to bully and undermine those placed in the Fifth. And Jason, even before he'd been made praetor, had learned to watch out for those types and defend himself and others against them.
Demigods are not just trained for combat, it's in their very blood from birth. It's hardwired into them so they can survive the aforementioned monsters and giants and anything else that might try to take them out before they are trained. And for Romans that training often begins young at all the whim of Lupa, the wolf goddess, who's very nature means that they are raised to believe that the strong survive and the weak will die.
Jason may have seen his death at the hands of Calligula, but he sure as hell wasn't about to fall to a damned pomegranate (that was too Greek, even for him). Just as the pomegranate is about to strike a vortex of wind spirals up around Jason with a roaring WHOOSH. Snow is blown into the air and the pomegranate veers off course. It plops a few feet away, rolling for a minute before coming to a stop a few feet away. The wind disperses just as quickly and he stays on track for the store, but takes a purposeful step to the side to come up to the pomegranate.
He looks over his shoulder at Vanitas, shrugs.[]
You dropped this.
[He then kicks it like a soccer ball back towards Vanitas and takes his crate into the store.]
voodoo dolls
That's definitely not Sora, because he's too old, too tall, too shorthaired, spikes in more of a bristle than a bush, clothes unfit for a keyblade war. That's not Sora, going up to the fire to think about things, warming his hands against the flames, staring deep into the heart of the flames as though they hold the answers to every swirling thought in his head. He's not really the type to be this deep in thought. It's not Sora, even if he shares Vanitas' face.
At least, Sora isn't sure if he's Sora, and it's the first time he's confronted the idea that he may not be. He doesn't even notice anyone else at the fire's edge as he stretches his hand in the heat. They've got their own business, after all, and for once, he's too lost in his own thoughts to notice what might be happening with someone else.
He sort of wishes Skyler was awake. He's a major jerk - probably, maybe one of the worst people he's ever known - but if there was anything Skyler could do, it's hate him for who he is. Normally, Sora doesn't think too hard about that because it's a pretty straightforward hatred, but if he needs anything right now, it's certainty. And Skyler was so certain about his hatred.
But that's just what's happening in his head. What's on the outside is this: a person who really isn't Sora, or at least he has his doubts. Would Vanitas like to shed some... light? On the situation? ]
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But there he sits, regardless, as they all spool twine together and make uncanny likenesses of the people in the town.
The lollipop clicks again as he rolls it the other way, and he raises up his little doll. It's crude. He's never done arts and crafts— what use was that to a weapon?— so the doll looks not unlike something a child might have made. But it has the light hair and the blue eyes and Ventus' symbol, so that's more than enough.
It's only with it raised that he notices the figure at the bonfire, and Vanitas' golden eyes narrow sharply from where he sits.
This wouldn't be the first time he hallucinated something familiar— but nobody else has made mention, and given the loudmouths that live in this place, Vanitas is sure he would have heard something by now.
When he rises from the ground, it's like an unfurling shadow. His arms hang loose at his sides, the straw doll gripped tightly in one fist. He takes the time to study him, the strange familiarity in his profile, juxtaposed to his height, his outfit. The longer he looks, the more the feeling creeps on him, like a tingle up his spine; the crawl of anger and violence. He grips the mini-Ventus so tightly that the straw squeaks. ]
Hey. Get out of the way.
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Well. This is pretty tough.
He's moved his hands from the fire to the pocket of his hoodie, content to let his face heat from the blaze, when he hears the voice from his side, somewhere outside of his peripheral vision. He didn't even hear anyone come up to him. It's enough to jolt him out of his reverie, look over to the side. It doesn't even register that the voice sounds familiar until he looks to the side, the newcomer lit by the light of their lanterns.
He's about to open his mouth, apologize for blocking the light, maybe, but stops. Stares. Those are two keyhole-shaped pupils cut into blue, blue eyes. For a couple of seconds, though, they won't be focused on Vanitas at all. They're staring right through him, actually, Sora's face slackening as he feels like he's opening up, hollowing out, making room for another -
"But how is that okay? Vanitas!"
- He comes back to earth, suddenly, eyes still wide. This is the boy from the cathedral. He fought him once, he regained that a long time ago, but this part of the memory - the aftermath, the identity of the boy who looks like Roxas, but Sora never, ever caught his name, didn't even know there was someone else who looked like Roxas - this was something missing until just now.
There's no time to prepare. He saw that there was a Vanitas here on the network. He's connected to keys, even. But apparently, that wasn't enough specificity for the echo to kick in. After all, a name is just a name if it doesn't have context. How is he supposed to remember a name that he's never heard, nor connected to a face?
There's no way to hide that. There was no time to prepare. This strange Sora, uncertain in his own identity, doesn't know what a person named Vanitas would do with a moment of weakness, with hesitation. It's very, very difficult not to feel frightened. Alone.
This is someone who also came into this world incomplete. Who needs someone else to be whole.
He wants to turn away but he can't. He continues to stare, face contorted in something between shock and... something else. Resignation. Longing. Familiarity. Something. Or maybe more like the shape of something missing. ]
Vanitas. [ That's the only thing he can manage, in the end. It's not a familiar intonation. It's the whisper of someone saying the name of an acquaintance half remembered, tied to a memory that maybe should have stayed buried. Whoever this person is, Vanitas, he does not remember you... but he says it like he should. ]
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Head on, he sees the resemblance, with years layered onto it. The difference between a young Xehanort and his older counterparts, a look into the future. Only— that goofy expression might be the same, but everything else is off. Like a familiar room, with everything shifted one inch to the left.
The blue iris is right, the shape of his jaw— but other things are wrong. Beyond the height, the short hair, beyond the unnatural shape of his pupils— there's a soft slope in his shoulders that his Sora doesn't have. This is the look of a person who has not seen war.
Vanitas' eyes carve over him, taking in the details, until they land on the shape of his lantern.
There, his eyes linger— Does this mean he's someone else entirely? Does that explain why Vanitas hadn't known as soon as he came back?— until abruptly they jump back to his face, watching him from under the black of his lashes. The fire makes his yellow eyes gleam, inhuman. ]
What's with that stupid expression?
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(He did end up graduating to fighting magical girls, who are a lot tougher than one might expect, but that's neither here nor there.)
He doesn't like this feeling of being analyzed, being known in a way more intimately than he knows himself. He knows Vanitas is dangerous, has fought him before, but he has no context. Who's Ventus? Is he related to Vanitas? Perhaps that blue haired woman had something to do with this - Aqua, right? She was always a non-sequitur in the broken sea of memories he struggled to tread - he knew rescuing her was important, but he doesn't know why. Maybe she and Ventus are connected in the mess, somewhere.
He doesn't know. He's throwing guesses into the dark and trying to listen for echoes. (No pun intended.) All he knows is that Vanitas chose darkness, at one point. He doesn't know if he'll choose it again. ]
It's. That's. [ He looks away. Okay, he's caught off guard, but this is not the time for stupid jokes. Vanitas doesn't care if that's just how he looks. Focus. ] Sorry. I was in your way. I'm gonna go. [ This is what he should have done with Riku two nights ago. This is what he's going to do now. He isn't... There isn't much he has in common with this person, when it comes down to it. At least, that's the idea that's worming its way into his heart.
Maybe the differences are enough that Vanitas will leave him be. Perhaps that's how it always should have been. He turns on his heel firmly and begins to leave the ring of light, moving back toward the library. ]
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target practice
Like hell you didn't!
[The pomegranate's rolled off nearby, and he's going to pick it up and lob it back at Vanitas. Unfortunately, the fruit hit his throwing arm, so the toss won't be as strong, but maybe it'll hit Vanitas' chest where he's aiming.]
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The fruit, while it's sturdy enough to withstand impact with a body, isn't powerful enough to survive the combination of blade and momentum and it explodes in a shower of juice and red seeds.
Nearby, a gaggle of spirits that had also been engaging in this behaviour all let loose a wild cheer. And then one of them copies what Vanitas had just done, hucking a pomegranate at Prompto.
Vanitas alters his stance and gestures with his free hand with a crook of his fingers: Come on. ]
Ingredients
Dangerous, maybe, but still humorous and cute. Dangerous things can absolutely be cute. Just don't let the dangerous thing know they're cute, if you don't want to get bitten. The Soldier is thankfully very good at keeping a poker face.]
Are you collecting those for something?
[In case he is, they offer the string of onions a spirit attempted to hang off their metal arm. (Bad move for the spirit, but the Soldier figured they could use the onions themselves for a stew or experiment with them on grilled cheese, or something).]
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Vanitas doesn't look down at it, even as it starts to tussle with another Unversed nearby, they both seeming to battle over the new batch. ]
What's it to you?
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[Onions are for flavoring, not just to, you know, eat. Gross. Seriously, where are the spirits even getting them all?
The Soldier watches the Unversed with interest, again, especially as they squabble. They're really kind of fascinating.]
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Vanitas is looking at the Soldier while the man looks down at the Unversed. ]
You don't look like any kind of cook.
[ And Vanitas obviously knows what those people look like. They're people like Bruce and Ignis, who are proper in ways that means they should probably be in big expensive houses somewhere. Not with sunken eyes and long hair and a five o'clock shadow that's threatening to move later into the evening. ]
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[They look like a murder machine. They're aware of this. It's a little funny-- possibly that's the reaction to watching this whole weird little display, mixed with relief that most of the spirit-noise has gotten down to a more bearable level.]
But Misty started teaching me. I like doing it. And you get something to eat at the end of it.
[Who wouldn't like that?]
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target practice
It's a good throw. Castiel feels the impact, even if he doesn't much acknowledge it. ]
Is that so.
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Did that hurt?
[ His tone suggests he doesn't actually care, and he keeps catching the pomegranate in his hand over and over again, maintaining eye contact, unblinking, the whole time. ]
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There may come a day. The day is not now.
That, however, doesn't mean a frown of minor annoyance isn't showing on the angel's features. ]
No. Should it have?
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Don't you feel pain?
[ He shoots back archly, but the question is a real one. Vanitas hit him pretty hard with that pomegranate, hard enough that it would leave a bruise on any normal living thing. ]
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Target Practice
That's bullshit and you know it! Who throws pomegranates at injured people?!
[If nothing, she has her light gun on her, but that seemed unnecessary here.]
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It's not my fault you were in the way.
[ His smile is mean, with too many teeth. ]
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I didn't just walk into it. Obviously that means you aimed for me.