logsinthenight | INTRO LOG: JULY

Entry tags:

INTRO LOG: JULY

characters: everyone.
location: all over beacon!
date/time: july 1-3.
content: we have some new arrivals, some items finally arrived, and a new bulletin!
warnings: n/a.

welcome to beacon.

The first thing you're aware of as you come to is the glow of a lantern, just within reach. As you start to become more aware of where you are (it could be the forest, it could be a room in a long forgotten school, it could be on the upper level of a severely flood damaged house), you start to recall the events leading up to your arrival. You died, somehow, but how does that equate to you being wherever you are?

A few answers can be found if you pick up and look through the tablet that's settled right beside the lantern. Some of the information is a little out of date at this point, but the most important details are still there: yes, you're really dead, keep your lantern close, and watch out for the spirits. You might notice mention of a ferry, but that's odd, especially if you're nowhere near the lake...

Leaving where you are and using the provided map on the tablet will help you find your way to town, and along the way you might find some out of place items, like crates of food or toiletries or clothing. Feel free to grab what you find as you make your way there, your new neighbors are sure to appreciate it.

•••
Requests have been made and thusly have arrived, but... since there's no ferry, where on earth are they? Good news... Another bulletin has been posted!

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. Well... it's not quite what it used to be, but there's still helpful stuff on there! Newcomers can always check out the weekly bulletins and the records that were thankfully saved from the storm. There's no obvious guidance for newcomers other than that... but some have been existing in the dark a year now. Surely they have a wealth of information to share, if someone wanted to ask.

happy anniversary.

While it might be hard to accept in a world of eternal darkness, it has been a year since the last reset. It's been a long year, and it seems as if the spirits have noted the fact it is an anniversary of sorts, and have seized the opportunity to present any Beaconite, both new and old, with a little something to celebrate.

Present what? Well, that depends. Either an item of player's choosing (anything not tied to a canonical world, though if you're not sure, feel free to confirm with us), or comment here to receive a mod-generated gift, complete with a spirit bringing fair tidings. There is no risk of danger or death in these prompts. Just an opportunity to celebrate and for characters to get something nice!

ooc.

Hey there, wonderful players, and welcome to The Next Night! This is an exciting arrival, as it marks a year in the world of Beacon and the very first arrival for our GPSL!

A lot has been happening in the last two months. Many of the NPCs that helped and protected the town seem to be unfortunately absent. A group of explorers managed to find Dr. Solis' lab, and everyone in Beacon helped contribute to restoring lantern repairs and teleportation functionality. There's absolutely need for more help, though -- please do have your character sign up to help out as well!

Last but not least, upon discovery of the radio tower, it seems as if something went south in the Helix Station below the lake. Characters are working to organize a way down there to potentially tangle with a adolescent version of what killed this world, and soon. This might be the calm before the storm... so enjoy it. Please check in here if your character would want to be involved (and just to check out the plan for the month)!

DELIVERIES

As mentioned by the Librarian, the newly ported in items have arrived. It's just that they're... kind of everywhere. Characters will have to recover the items from wherever they've landed, and safe to say they're all over the place. However, for specialized items that characters requested, they can find a spirit guide by the General Store to lead them exactly where their item landed. Whether it's quite what they expected is another story, though nothing will befall them collecting their wares!

The monthly store restock, which is more bountiful and generous than usual! The lab crew must have worked really hard to get this just right. Meat and vegetables arrive fresh, already washed, and in great shape, the bread is still warm to the touch, and huge sacks of beans and grain don't even have a single stray stone in the mix. Add to all that a lot of neatly-coiled rope, fresh clean blankets and sheets, and a variety of other helpful goods - and even a huge box of frozen chicken nuggets and fries for the lunch lady.

Strewn across town with the requested items and the usual restock are what appear to be... limbs? Heads? Bodies? But on approach, it turns out to be the parts of ruined scarecrows, stuffed with straw and corn husks. They look to all be very well-dressed, though, and have some pretty nice buttons sewn on for eyes that might be salvageable. Of course, they do seem to be watching you as you walk around, but surely that's all in your mind. They can't really move, right?

For Rosinante: Six cartons of cigarettes plus a bonus sampler pack with a few different fun flavors!

For Minimus: A brand new package of eight rust-resistant galvanized steel signs in a variety of shapes, all the nuts and bolts required to assemble them with included signposts, and several tubes of paints, brushes, and even some premade stencils for common safety symbols.

For Pudding: Three dozen candy jackets and one large island-themed wedding cake.

For Fitz: Five cartons of very fine tobacco cigarettes, two sets of bright red guitar strings, a child-size string clipper (functional, but quite small), and a guitar slide inscribed with the phrase n̵̹͆'̸̰́g̶̼̔h̶̡̒a̷̝͒ ̷̬̂à̵̗ḧ̶̙́ ̴͉̀s̸̻̈y̷͖̓h̷̜͠à̶̳'̶̯̚h̷̘̏ ̵̤̍v̷̹̀u̴̟̚l̶͚̒ǵ̴͇t̸̘́m̷̗̓ō̵̧g̴̩̈

For Cao Pi: A well-packed wine box with twenty bottles of quality red and white wines, plus an additional bonus bottle of champagne.

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

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The smell of food draws Rosinante downstairs to retrieve lunch for him and Law. Rather than waiting for the tail end to grab a bite, or sitting in a corner by himself, he's now got someone he wants to actually spend time with - but like Rosinante, that someone isn't much for loud social gatherings. Easy to get around it when you live in the same building as the big daily lunch, though.

Which, he can see as he arrives on the ground floor, truly is big today. Already in a good mood, the smell, the sight, hell even the music (maybe especially the music) has him smiling as he heads over to the bar to peer into the kitchen before Soldat has finished setting it all out.

"Almost forgot what a real lunch was," he teases as he eyes a whole pile of roast vegetables on a baking tray. "You must be in heaven right now."

"Pretty happy," Soldat agrees, only slightly muffled around the ivory pendant in their mouth (apparently at one point it had been an actual decoration, it's still vaguely animal shaped), and yet still about as cheerful as Rosinante has probably ever seen them. And, because they know perfectly well now Rosi's tendency to bite into things that aren't ready yet, they pull their chew toy out and add over their shoulder, "Don't grab yet. They're too hot. Give it a minute. And there's beef coming out of the oven to go with it."

"Oh - right." Yeah he'd just been leaning in and about to reach forward, but he straightens his back and lets his hand fall to his side, and manages not to look entirely like a very tall scolded child.

"I like this song, what's this one?" It's just distracting enough to keep him from drooling all over everything while he waits.

"Putting on the Ritz, sung by Ella Fitzgerald," Soldat answers readily, very politely not smiling at Rosinante's expression. Helps that it's time to duck and open the oven to get the roast beef out. They do not use an oven mitt, because metal arm-- sleeves rolled all the way up to the elbow, so they don't get singed-- and also poking the meat itself gives him an accurate temperature reading. Yep, it's done. "It's fun. I found a remake of it from later in my world's timeline, in Songbird, but I like her version better."

"She has a good voice," he agrees, and leans onto the bar with his elbows as he waits.

It must be strange, being caught between two times. He doesn't say it out loud as he knows the reason well enough and it's not the most pleasant topic, and even if Soldat handles it well enough (all things considered) today just does not feel like the day for that. Not when they have food. Not when he has Law.

Not when he has cigarettes again, and he absolutely fishes one out of a pocket and lights it on the torch at the bar.

"Where'd you learn to cook? Was that something you always liked doing?" he asks.

Honestly, it's all Soldat knows, now. And it winds up being not as weird here as it would be back on Earth. They manage.

And give the cigarettes a sidelong look, but don't ask. Rosinante went without for so long, he shouldn't have to share now. "Before HYDRA, I knew how to make scrambled eggs and sandwiches. When I came here, I didn't even remember that much. I learned most of this from Misty. A little from Aziraphale, before he died, and from Pudding." And he's a quick study, plus he gets lots of practice.

"Huh. Cool," he comments, managing not to sound as surprised as he is. They really have been here a long time, haven't they? Many of them, anyway. Long enough to pick up new interests and new skills - Soldat with their cooking, himself and his own growing interest in the stars as more than just pretty lights to navigate by. Sound too - something obviously inherent to who he is, but something he's never properly learned about. Turns out the physics mostly goes over his head, but he's trying, thanks to some of the books he found in Dr. Solis's study.

He didn't miss that look, though. It's his nature and also training to pay attention, so without even asking for confirmation, he produces another cigarette and offers it in an outstretched hand. "You can just ask. I got a lot this time. Don't want to run out ever again."

Soldat looks vaguely embarrassed, but they accept anyway. "You need them. I just like them. But thank you." They stick it, unlit, behind their ear for a second, to light once they get all the food out and ready. "That must be going well. The. Lab stuff. There's so much food, and new people." There's so few of them left, now, that the addition of this many new faces is kind of staggering.

They still feel bad that they can't make themselves go into the lab, but it seems like maybe things are going okay without their help.

"Yeah." He smiles brighter around his cigarette as he pockets the rest of the pack, then takes his lit one between his fingers and at least has the courtesy to hold it away from the kitchen a little to try and keep the food from smelling entirely like cigarettes, though really, it's a gesture that probably won't make much actual difference.

"I don't know much about how it all works in detail, I just go through notes and try to pull out the parts that look useful for bringing in all this," he says, nodding to the food. "The people, though - I guess somehow, Javert and Fitz ended up pointing it at my world again."

For all he knows it's not even remotely that simple and individual worlds probably can't be targeted. It's very likely by chance. The end result is what really matters to him this time.

Soldat looks up from collecting a bigger knife to carve up the roast, blinking in Rosi's direction. "Your world?" Which in context can only mean: "There's people here now that you know?"

"One." That he knows. Others from his world, too, judging by what Law said, but he hasn't met them yet and is cautious about doing so for multiple reasons. Only the one matters anyway.

"Law is here. Closer to my age now." That last fact seems necessary to add, to justify why he's able to accept that Law died and smile about his presence here. It's still terrible, he still died far too young, but at the very least he got to live beyond childhood.

"Law. The boy from. Oh. That's--" They get their confused stammering under control, start again. "I don't know whether to say I'm happy for you or not. Is that good or bad."

Because in the good column: Rosinante has a friend! This is a good thing! In the bad column: that means Law is dead, and Rosi can't be happy about that, and also Beacon is not exactly a safe place.

"It's..." Complicated. He doesn't mind letting his smile slip, and takes a drag from his cigarette as he decides how he wants to react.

"He did a lot with his life. And normally I wouldn't ever wish for anyone to show up here, but - he can help. I'm glad to have him here," he says.

It's very Law, anyway, to keep fighting in death, and at least they can now do that to take on the world eaters together.

"Okay." That makes sense. And also important: "I'm glad you have a friend here, at least." They finish carving a serving off the roast, appropriately Rosinante-sized on the waiting plate, then pauses, and adds with half a smile, "Should I make you up two plates, then?"

"Two and a half? If there's room to just squeeze in some extra for Mary."

Who probably is still around, now that Law has agreed to teach her how to use a bone saw. Oh, and hell, there's a thought.

"She found a bone saw with the supplies, and he's a doctor so he told her he'd show her how to use it correctly. If you end up with a bone-in roast and want smaller pieces for soup, let one of us know. That'd be something she could practice on."

Something that isn't someone's arm or leg, which is really his whole goal right now in trying to manage her and her new toy.

Twitch. At least Soldat manages to contain it to a twitch, and not a violent start. (Hey, good job, buddy. Yes. Shut up, you too.) Law is a goddamn doctor? Jesus that's... going to be fun. Rosinante's favorite person, and he's a doctor.

At least that means Rosi's hand is going to get looked at properly. That's... something, right?

"Two. And a half plates. Coming up," they say, only a little haltingly, forcing themselves back into motion, cutting another couple pieces for the other two. "And I'll save the bone for her when all the meat's off. Sure."

Oh, right. He's so enthusiastic about Law being here and all of his incredible successes as a skilled surgeon that once again, he'd forgotten that's one of Soldat's words that just can't be mentioned. He immediately frowns, more at himself than at Soldat's reaction.

"Sorry. Uh. Yeah, I'll - she'd appreciate that. Thanks." From what he's gathered, Law is probably very much not the kind of doctor Soldat would like, either. Not like Dr. Scully, who was a very patient, kind, and quite normal medical doctor, and not like Dr. Ingram who holds a doctorate but otherwise has nothing to do with doctoring of the sort Soldat fears. No, Law has earned himself nicknames like "The Surgeon of Death" and intimidates people by hacking off their limbs.

They usually get reattached safely, apparently - it really is intimidation and not sadism. Probably. It's something he's still trying to work out his own feelings on, to be sure.

"It's fine." They say it bracingly, with effort, focusing on keeping their hands steady and expression neutral. "Gotta get used to it. Sure he's one of the. Not-experimenting kind, anyway." Completely oblivious to the whole "surgeon of death" thing, yep, that's Soldat.

More soberly, they add, "Good to have around, so I'm not the one who knows the most about fixing people, anymore." And as much as they like being useful in helping patch people up, they know their knowledge is still pretty basic. Without magical healers like Misty and Sora, they'd probably lose a lot more people to regular wounds.

"Yeah. We've lost a lot of people with medical skills. Ignis, Scully..." At least he dropped her title this time, even though it feels wrong to mention her name without it.

"I'm getting him caught up as quickly as I can. He means well, and he wants to help," he emphasizes, because it's important. Law is the sort of person that people don't like, he knows that. He's been abrasive ever since they first met and it hasn't changed in the years in between. Rosinante knows exactly why he's so bitter, too, and doesn't blame him for it in the slightest. He may be a Marine, but he can't honestly defend every action they've taken in his world's history.

Considering two of Soldat's first friends were Crowley and Scarlett, of all people, it's possible they'll make it work. Maybe. If Soldat doesn't wind up just plain terrified of him from the get-go, and Law doesn't get impatient with quiet, awkward former assassins. (Okay, probably it won't work.)

"Good. Think he'll go with when we try to get to Helix Station?" Because that's still the plan, whether or not the backdated explore pans out for more than just making a radio-station friend. They add vegetables to the plates, next, plenty of them. And only two of the three plates get a slice of the garlic bread, because obviously Rosinante isn't going to eat any of it.

"Yeah-" he begins, but then frowns at the bread and tries to wave off Soldat from even letting one of those slices touch the plate. "Don't - just Mary. Law won't eat that."

Would possibly even get offended at the idea of bread having touched his plate, but he just won't say anything. The stuff won't kill him, it's not like that, it's just disgusting. Not food. Something the two quickly discovered they had in common, back when both were living with his brother's crew.

Soldat doesn't understand this wholesale hatred of carbs, but hey, it's not like they can stand orange juice now. (Which is fuckin' weird, pal, I know I used to drink it. I'm not you, Sarge. Except you kinda are.) "More for me, I guess," they shrug, and just leave one for Mary. "And everyone else. I'll remember that Law doesn't like it, either." A pause, a thought. "Did he get that from you?"

"I don't... think so, but it's not like we ever had any around while he was with me," he says with a shrug. He's pretty sure Law turned up at ten years old hating most things. Bread was one. The government was another. Him, for a good while. Their relationship could very kindly be described as rocky for the majority of it, and really only turned around in that last year.

So no, Law surely hated bread already but he wasn't exactly encouraged at any point to get over that. More important is trying to figure out whether these plates can be stacked or if he'll have to make two trips. "You have a tray or something?" he asks, looking around for one.

The thought of Rosinante trying to carry three plates worth of food up multiple flights of stairs is... harrowing. Soldat can easily see their fine meal spilled across three different hallways. "I can help," they suggest. "Carry a couple up with you, maybe. Then you can bring drinks, too."

"Sure, all right," he agrees readily. Unlike his usual refusal for any offer of help, this one makes a lot of good sense - not just because he knows he might spill something (which never seems to stop him trying anyway) but the drinks are a good point too. They have a few things upstairs in the room already, but the kitchen probably got other stuff made up.

"Mind just grabbing a beer each for me and Law? And uh, Mary probably wants juice." He can bring them up, but Soldat's the one who knows where they actually are in that kitchen right now.

July 2

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