logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: FEBRUARY

Entry tags:

INTRO LOG: FEBRUARY

characters: everyone.
location: the harbor, as well as the rest of town.
date/time: february 1-3.
content: beacon's newest batch of residents arrives on the ferry. rastus gathers the town for a debriefing meeting.
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.

•••

On February 3, after the newcomers have had a chance to settle in, everyone's tablets will ping with a message from @rastus!

Come tob onfier squae.Pl eaas , we wikll disucss our orogress sincereeluy rastuaas I am th ebonfire keeeeeeepr.

...Followed by another message a few minutes later, this time from @keeper

Omg will everyone head down to Bonfire Square for Rastus' town meeting please? He wants to recap what you've all learned so far!!!

And can someone please teach him that he can record an audio message and then send it to everyone instead of looping the whole dang town in on a group text?? 😂😂😂😂

Assuming you do indeed head down to Bonfire Square after all that, what you'll find is this: a series of benches and tables have been set up surrounding the bonfire, and there's enough seating for all of Beacon's residents. As people take their seats near the fire, the barkeeper forest spirits from the Invincible toddle through the crowd with trays of hot chocolate and warm cider, along with a sampler tray of acorns and pinecones, if that's your thing.

Once everyone's here and settled, sipping on hot drinks and maybe busting a tooth on an acorn, Rastus hobbles forward to address the crowd:

"Crrk. Hello. I am Rastus. I tend to the bonfire. I have tended to the bonfire, mrawk, for years and years. You are doing, rmmm, well. Good."

He nods to emphasize the point. Yes, you are doing good.

"Talk. To each other. Share what you have learned. Yes. Crarrk. It is important."

He nods again, and then... shuffles back over to his post near the bonfire, waiting for anyone who might come by with an interest in torches. Seems it's up to you all to get each other up to speed?

Luckily for all the newcomers who may find themselves confused by their sudden arrival here, 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 thrilled to welcome so many new faces into the community, and you've come at a great time! Alongside this intro log, we have our very first cat herd, which is essentially a recap of the plot thus far, as well as a rundown on a ton of great info to help get you started in the game.

But don't feel like you have to read it all right this second! ICly, Rastus will call everyone together for the town meeting on February 3 to give new characters (and players) a chance to get their bearings before smacking them in the face with all the plot. This log will cover both the ferry arrival and the cat herd meeting, so feel free to bounce around in time in your toplevels.

Remember, too, that all of the plot info available in the cat herd can now be considered common knowledge! Newbies and oldbies alike, feel free to assume that your character learns as much of that plot info as you like at this meeting, regardless of whether or not you thread it out.

And of course, go ahead and introduce yourselves on the OOC intro, as well!

DELIVERIES

The following packages can be found in the cargo hold:

The monthly store restock
For Sora: A gameboy(?), 3 CPR/AED kits, a dozen CPR/first aid training manuals, two packages of capiz shells, a set of candy molds, a caldero, and 3 gameboy games: 3-D World Runner, Decapathon VII, and Sheep It Up!
For Crowley: A variety of clockwork equipment, a large clock face, and the goods
For Jason G: 2 bulletin boards with materials for mounting, 3 packs of pushpins
For Lucius: A manual sewing machine
For Castiel: A dozen flasks of holy oil and a pillowcase-sized satchel of various natural spell components
For Duster: A double bass, complete with a case
For Prompto: A polaroid camera with enough film for 50 photos and a folding sword, which is cruder than the example he gave but roughly the same size
For Aziraphale: A large crate of snowshoes, jackets, and coats in various sizes, a bottle of wine, and a bouquet of red, white, and pink roses tied together with an elegant bow
For Javert: A large crate of various fencing gear and 3 fencing handbooks

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

QUICKNAV
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pages	\|	rules • faq • taken • mod contact • player contact • calendar • setting • exploration • item requests • full nav

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

For a beat, Soldat says nothing, just blinking. Heartless, like what the kid said. Like what they would have been, in the kid's world: memoryless, empty, no emotions left but anger and fear, just obeying orders. Their expression is a little sad when they say, "No. Unless they're very big heartless. They're called World Eaters. What's your name?"

They're not sure if they're hoping this is the kid's friend or not. If she knows who a spiky-haired boy named Sora is. Would it hurt him or help him to have someone else who knows who he was, before?

"Huh? It's Naminé."

World Eaters.

"There are heartless like that but they might not be what these are. I haven't seen much of it." She wrapped her arms around her thin waist as if she was attempting to comfort herself. "But- it's okay. Whatever it is. There is light." She held up her lantern as if to show him.

The metal was twisted in the shape of a birdcage with sweeping hearts crowning the top. "We can fight darkness with light." She flushed and looked away. "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to understand. I was finally hole but-"

Now she wasn't so sure.

Oh, hell. How old is this kid? She seems so young. Hasn't anybody told her what's going on around here? She's not Sora's friend, at least, that's not the right name. (Which is probably good, cuz who knows what somebody with that kind of magic-heart-clairvoyance could do here. Maybe solve the World Eater problem? Pretty sure it won't be that easy, no matter what powers people have here, pal.)

Because it's not really in their nature to sugar-coat things or avoid talking about them, they say, "We're all dead here, Namine. I'm sorry." At least they do manage to sound vaguely apologetic. "And the more light we have, the more likely it is we'll fail against the World Eaters. Light attracts them." They pause, then add, belated and still apologetic, "I'm Soldat."

Naminé had the body of a young woman but she'd only existed for a few years, having been born from Kairi's heart and then returned to it. She'd only been given a body of her own for a few days before it'd been cruelly taken from her.

"If we're dead then why do I feel? Why do I have a body that isn't mine?" It didn't make any sense to her.

"Soldat. Have you seen the realm of darkness before this world? It isn't the end." Naminé had been through so much that as long as she existed somewhere, she knew that there was a chance that light could win.

"Apparently part of us keeps existing after we die, and it's kept in those." They nod to her lantern, much prettier than their own. "We don't know the specifics. I don't understand it at all. But we definitely died. This is a dead world. Only the dead can be here."

They're not at all sure what she means by the "realm of darkness". Sounds more like that's a good description of Beacon, to be honest. "We're supposed to fix it," they add. "That's why we're here."

"I see." Her mouth tilted into a frown. "Does that count as death?" Those bright crystal blue eyes meet his without fear or worry. "I have been a lingering-will. A form without a body that was going to fade into nothing. This is more than that. If a piece of us keeps existing then we aren't completely dead."

Not yet.

Naminé has been a husk, a Nobody, she's been a piece of another person and a spirit without anything at all; and she's been alive through all of that.

"We are still ourselves." She smiled at him. "And if we can fix it, then that's good. Even if it's all we can do." That wasn't entirely how she felt but she's been putting others first for so long that it was her natural response.

Soldat finds themselves unable to come up with anything to say to that kind of weird, childlike optimism. It's like Daylight, only worse. They never once considered an afterlife-- death for them usually meant coming back out of cryofreeze, or coming back on an operating table-- so the idea that they're not "completely dead" just feels alien. Dead is dead, even if something comes after it. But they're willing to admit they might just be bitter and jaded compared to her.

So. Words in response to all that fail. That means they fall back on their usual mainstay: offer help. "Can I show you to the Landmark? There's food there. And rooms. And it's warm."

Naminé knew what she was talking about but it was difficult for her to explain the oddity of her birth. She was never supposed to exist and if life was defined so easily, she would have technically never been alive.

She blinked and gently tucked her hands into her pockets. Her legs were beginning to feel cold now that she wasn't moving. "The Landmark? Where is that?" She was going to pull out the strange device she'd been given but her hands were just starting to warm up.

"I am cold." Warmth sounded good.

Whereas Soldat's life has all been very concrete, albeit abrupt and often unclear in the details. They might not have a proper identity or the bulk of their memories, but they're pretty damn sure of their body and broken brain. They know what death feels like, and that was definitely death.

"Landmark. It's the hotel. It's the really tall building, this way." They take a step back the way they'd come, in the direction Namine had been going, waiting for her to follow before continuing. "It's additional lodging. A little further away from the church and general store. But very comfortable. And there are other stores here." It's like an additional small village, here: clothes, grocery, even outdoor supplies if anyone manages to clear out the spirits that had taken over that store.

"Oh, okay." She followed behind him and then skipped a bit to be walking at his side. She wanted to understand this strange man but she worried about pushing to hard. He seemed unsure or maybe she was just forcing her ideals on another... again.

Naminé bit her lower lip before finding the words that she wanted to speak.

"Thank you. So um... have you been here long? I've heard bits and pieces about this world but I haven't been to many worlds."

"This will be my sixth month," Soldat answers, adjusting their stride to hers so they keep comfortably apace. "Longer than most, but there are some who have been here longer. This is the first world besides my own I've ever been to. Or thought about existing." Science fiction novels in a past they barely remember probably doesn't count as considering the possibility of actual alien life out there.

Seriously, ask anything you want, kiddo. They're surprisingly open about pretty much everything.

Naminés mouth tilted into a subtle frown. "I'm sorry." She wondered if he hated it here or what he was thinking. She had a lot of trouble reading him and it wasn't just because of his short responses. "Um... I know a tiny bit. That is, someone told me some about this world." She didn't truly believe she was dead but that was an illusion that Naminé was stubbornly clinging too.

"Do you not hate it here? I know we have something to do and restore like light." As he had said earlier. "But there has to be some good here too. Like the lanterns. Even if it's small. Can you tell me about that?"

"Well, sure. There's good here. It's better than where I came from. Good people. Good food. Comfortable clothes. Music. Jobs to do and people to keep safe. Some of the spirits are even really kind." Honestly, being dead is the best thing that's happened to Soldat in a long time. Their wants in life (or unlife) are really pretty straight-forward. "Shitty things happen, sometimes, but they always stop in the end, and people try to help each other through them."

Her smiled widened as he began to list out the things that he was happy for. "That sounds amazing. I'd love to hear music and try lots of foods. Maybe even get a job." She giggled a little. "I've never had one before."

Naminé wasn't a normal eighteen year old and it showed in her very apparent lack of experiences.

"What job do you do? Is it hard?"

"I patrol the whole of the discovered area twice each day," Soldat explains. "I protect people." Better than being an assassin, so far. They definitely prefer it. Even if violence has to happen, it's better to do it keeping someone else safe.

They step ahead and open the Landmark's door for her. "It might be hard for other people, but I am well-trained."

She smiled as she followed at his side. "Really? That's amazing!" He was a protector like Sora and Riku! "I want to be able to protect people do. Do you think I can learn? I don't know how to fight but I can use some magic."

Naminé didn't know if any of her magic was useful.

She stops in front of Landmark inn and tried to memorize the front of the building before stepping inside. "Is this where you live too?" Was it safe here?

"I live over in the village, we didn't know about this part of town when I got here," they explain, stepping inside behind her. "But I have a friend who lives here. It's not a bad place. If you want to get a room, talk to that spirit." They nod in the direction of the Concierge behind the counter. "Food is this way."

That's where Soldat is going to lead her, to the restaurant and kitchen beyond it. "If you want to learn how to fight, or at least protect yourself enough to get away from trouble, there are classes in the village. Twice a week. I teach there." Even someone small can defend herself, they're sure. She might not enjoy it much, as soft and gentle as she seems, but they always offer. They love having new students.

She turned towards the spirit and nodded in silent understanding before continuing behind him towards food. She wasn't sure when the last time she ate was. Naminé wasn't used to eating but this body wasn't like her Nobody form. It needed food and at the thought of something to eat her stomach audibly growled.

Her cheeks flush and she nodded her head again. "I'll stop by. I want to help. Will you teach me to use a sword? Like the keyblade?" That was what Sora, Kairi and Riku used and it was the only weapon besides magic that she was familiar with.

They hesitate. Learning a sword-- and that keyblade of the kid's is not a sword, Jesus, it's a goddamn club-- is in fact pretty difficult. "I don't teach swords, that would be Inspector Javert." And they are quite sure Javert would say no. Children should not have to kill people. Soldat happens to agree, there.

So they continue: "But I would not recommend sword for you. It would take you more time than we have on this world to learn. I would start you with something smaller. How to break a hold, how to stomp on someone's foot or kick in the right place to distract while you escape, how to hold yourself ready to move. How to fall without hurting yourself. Then if you do well, I can teach you how to use a knife. Like this." They pull out one of their longer daggers from a thigh sheath, hidden by one of the combat pants' broad pockets, to show her.

Naminé looks uncertain. "Children?" Is she a child? She isn't sure. She doesn't have a parent but had been born from another's heart.

She continues to listen to his explanation and nods. "Then let's do that. I have tried to fight before." She walked around the kitchen and took something that looked like she could eat it as is. Naminé really didn't know a lot about food but she assumes that as long as she eats she'll be okay.

"I was locked in a castle for a long time. I know that fighting isn't good but... I don't want that to happen again. I don't want to be useless and my magic... it can't do much to protect me." Naminé doesn't think that she'll have anyone come and safe her. "But thank you. I will learn. And thank you for leading me to food. If there is anything I can do in return." She inclines her head in a gentle but respectful bow.

Oh, hell, did they say that "children" thing out loud? Didn't mean to. Thankfully she keeps going, so they can just kind of breeze past it, holding the door to the restaurant open for her, then the kitchen. "It's fine. I like helping people. And I like teaching."

They shoo a couple of spirits away with a wordless, sung phrase in their language, and set about getting out the ingredients for the most simple and comforting of hot foods: grilled cheese. The spirits don't need to work right now, because Soldat is going to do the cooking. "There's no harm in not being able to fight. But fighting isn't necessarily bad, either. Depends on what you do it for."

Naminé held a bag of cheddar cheese against her chest as she followed Soldat around the kitchen. She'd never had grilled cheese before but she was excited to try it out and learn how to cook it. Soldat was going to find out that there was a lot that Naminé didn't know how to do or wasn't accustomed too.

She didn't have comfort food.

"I want to protect people." She'd hurt so many in the past and she wanted to make up for it. "I want to be better." It was hard to explain her desire but she was stubborn and she was going to do her best.

She's like a smaller, cuter version of them, when they first got here. Also probably less deadly. Definitely less terrified. Soldat sets the pan on the stove to heat up and sets about buttering bread. There's cheese and also tomatoes, because fruits and vegatables are important, and they make a nice crunch in the middle of all the gooey. "I understand the feeling, kiddo." More than what she'd said, even. There's a lot of shit they did that they really, really wish they hadn't, at this point.

Naminé doesn't have to actually do anything, just watch. Soldat also likes cooking. Though questions are certainly welcome, if she has them. "Ever had a grilled cheese sandwich before?" It seems like something that would be a staple in their own world, but not all worlds or people are the same.

She stepped quickly to his side as he began to set the pan on the stove, still clinging to the cheese. "Please. Call me Naminé. It is my name." She wasn't used to people calling her by name and she didn't really understand the meaning, affection or significance of nicknames.

It was nice to be called by her name, like she was a real person.

"No. What is it? Do you put the cheese on the heat?" He had gotten out other foods so she's thinking that there was more to it. "I haven't eaten... a lot before now." She might look like she was eighteen but she's only had a human body for about a week before dying and arriving in beacon.

"I like apples. Are there apples here?"

"Naminé. Okay." No pet names or nicknames for her, then. They'll remember that. Names, after all, are important. (Yeah, it'd be nice if you'd let us have ours. Shut up, Sergeant.) Though perhaps it's progress that the Sergeant sniping about the knowledge of their name doesn't throw them into a panic. Just actually hearing it. Or thinking it.

"I hadn't eaten much at all before I died, either. You'll probably like this." They slice up the tomatoes deftly, then hold out a hand for the cheese, glancing her way, though still not making direct eye contact. "I need to cut that. Can't put the whole wedge on the sandwich or it won't melt. There are apples in the basket over there, on the far counter. I can cut one up for you, too, if you want." They aren't even too bad on grilled cheeses, for that matter. Just not as good as tomatoes.

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