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 Some of the information is a little out of date at this point, but the most important details are still there: yes, you're really dead, keep your lantern close, and watch out for the spirits.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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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Not today yet. I think I still have some clean ones in the bathroom, though." At least he does know basic first aid when it comes to more mundane sorts of injuries like having a chunk of his arm ripped off by a creature that was super into radios. Still, if Law is offering to help, he won't say no - unlike how he'd wave off almost anyone else here and insist he can handle it himself.

"Back when Doctor Solis was here, she wrote to me and said she was working on better ways to repair lanterns that might be able to help things like this," he says, gesturing vaguely to his chest. "There might be a way still, but she has a lot of research to go through and it's pretty far over my head."

He's quick to turn towards the bathroom... but instead of moving, he picks up one of Mary's crayons from the floor.

"Shambles."

And suddenly, instead of a crayon, he's holding bandages. (Hopefully someone will remember that the blue crayon is in the bathroom, the next time Mary needs it...)

"Is there anyone here who knows about technology?" Unfortunately, he only knows about fixing people, not things. As they talk, he's already started to unwrap the bandages. He frowns when he gets a good look at the arm, but sighs, "At least it didn't seem to be infected. Which is a minor miracle."

The switch from crayon to bandage makes his eyes go wide, and then his grin comes back as bright as ever. "So cool," he mutters, shaking his head. And so useful around here, with all the hazards this place has.

But he reigns in his enthusiasm for basic tricks and extends his arm so Law can get to it. No, not infected, but he knows even though he insists it will get better on its own, there's going to be some loss of strength for a good while in that arm. The spirit really ripped him up and it's lucky he was able to stay up on that ladder at all. He'll sacrifice muscle tissue in exchange for not dying again.

"Doctor Ingram," he replies readily to the question. "Who I've probably mentioned." Multiple times. Turns out when you have one actual friend your own age who you're close to in a place like this, you think about them a lot, or something. "But it's not really his field either. I think that mostly just means it'll take him longer to work it out, though. He does a lot with computers but I guess mostly he's more interested in biology and chemistry. It's just that all this stuff is really outdated compared to what he's used to."

He fixes him with a steely glare for a moment — this isn't a freaking demonstration, this is serious — before he goes back to examining the arm, a worried twist to his mouth as he takes in the damage. He knows he could have fixed it better than this, right after it happened... now, it's too late to do anything.

"Mm," he hums in agreement, sounding somewhat amused. Well, at least Cora's got one friend here, that's good.

"It's better than nothing." At least someone is doing something. "There." The bandage is done. He lets room go, turning aside to get rid of the old bandages and to set Kikoku to rest against the wall, again.

"Thanks." He'd put his shirt back on, too, but he's not sure if Law is done trying to figure out his weird ribcage situation or not, plus it's warm enough now that it's summer where sitting around without a shirt on in his own room is reasonable enough.

"I'm sure you'll meet him eventually. He keeps to himself a lot, but I think he's intending to come to the station once the submarines come up since he can help figure out the tech down there."

Oh, but Law might not have gotten to hear about that yet, huh? The last week has been something of a blur. He reaches for his cigarettes and selects one, then looks over at Law. "I should probably fill you in on all that, unless someone beat me to it."

Good, because he's not — as Cora talks, Law focuses on the bones that don't jut out completely, to make them hinder his movements less, making mental calculations as for what kind of an operation it would require, how little equipment he could get away with using.

He only looks up at the mention of submarines.

"The station?" His confusion is obviously an answer to whether anyone filled him in on this or not.

"The Helix Station," he clarifies as he draws his lantern closer so he can unscrew the top and light the cigarette on the open flame. Because look that's just what you do here when you don't have a torch on hand - light your smokes on your own soul, or whatever the little light is. It was weird to him once, but now it's routine.

He has a draw from it, then continues. "Where the main portal is, the thing that started all this. When Solis was experimenting with it over a hundred years ago, the first world eaters found her and came through. The Helix Station is the research station that was built around it, though I don't know if that was before or after.

"Up until recently there were people living there who called themselves the Night Market. They'd come up and trade sometimes, and knew how to operate the portal to get specific things for us, like the newspapers I've got from home. But we lost contact with them a while ago. So, end of last month, I and a couple of others were out exploring to the southeast when we found the old radio tower. The spirit that hung out there is what got my arm and neck. Anyway, we were able to receive an emergency message from the Night Market that was repeating at the tower and it had instructions on how to automatically call up their submarines to the harbor so we can go down and see if we can help them. Sounds like their leader died, probably others. They think a world eater found them."

And it's absolute madness to go toward one of those, and he knows it. But this is their first real chance to learn about the creatures, and besides, he simply can't sit back and not try to help. It's just not who he is.

Law's brows furrow as he listens to the explanation, eventually stepping back as he's done with examining the rib cage situation (for now), focusing instead fully on the information given.

It's strange, knowing he's missed all this. Knowing that Cora has been here, alive, going through all of that... on his own.

(Strange is only another way to say wrong.)

"When are we going?"

Really, it's all he needs to ask — he can already guess Cora is going, and it's not like Law is going to let him go on his own.

Likewise, Rosinante is not at all surprised. It would have been far more startling if Law had balked at the idea of coming along. They've already spent too much time apart.

"As soon as the submarines surface, which - I'd have to go to the lab, see if they've worked out how to input the commands the message told us to look for. But any day now. Who knows how long they've been waiting for us."

What a nightmare for them, trapped under the water with one of those things. He focuses his eyes on Law's then, stern and serious, and adds, "It's going to be dangerous."

Which is a bit of an understatement. This is the sort of thing that they may not be able to come back from, he imagines - but they're safer together, no matter what. Law has grown a lot, has surely become incredibly capable, but Rosinante is the one who has the experience with this place and he's as determined as ever to protect Law at any cost.

"Just let me know," he says — not really caring either way, it could be the next day, or next week. He'd come along regardless.

At the warning, Law's only response is to lift his eyebrow: he's clearly well-used to danger by now. Most of what he's done in the past two years has been nothing but deliberately putting himself in danger. What's some more of that?

But there's an undercurrent to Cora's words, something he can recognize, and so he blurts out, voice tight,

"Do anything unnecessary," by which he means, try and protect me instead of looking after yourself, "and I won't hesitate to switch you with something or someone else."

By which he means, you put yourself in danger because of me and I'll switch our places around, just fucking try me.

"Like the crayon?" Honestly, he'd laugh if this wasn't a life-or-death situation they're soon to plunge into. He quirks the corner of his mouth into a half-smile anyway, but it fades as he sucks thoughtfully at his cigarette for a second.

"I don't want you to go through all that again. Being alone, I mean. And I know you can handle tougher things now than I ever have." It was Law, after all, who succeeded in bringing down Doflamingo. Even if it was hard, even if it was help - and that's the real key anyway, isn't it? Some things probably shouldn't be done alone.

So they won't. They have each other. He reaches for a saucer near the head of his bed he uses as an ashtray and taps the cigarette over it. "I'll have your back and you'll have mine. Either we both make it through this, or neither of us do."

Easy enough to say, anyway. It might sound convincing to anyone else, but they both know how Rosinante is. It's true, he doesn't want Law to be alone, but equally he must protect Law because he will accept nothing less from himself.

"It works, regardless of the size."

Moving Roronoa-ya and the pile of lumber had been just as easy as the crayon... but of course, Cora wouldn't know. Law sighs. He looks away, soon, because it's easier than even thinking about being alone.

And despite the easy words that follow, the promise that it'd be either neither of them or both... hah. Like Law's ever going to trust that promise again.

(It's only a second, the twist to his expression, a flash in his eyes, but it's there. He's not quick enough to hide it.)

"... I'm holding you to that," he answers after a pause, quiet. In his mind, he promises himself that no, it's not going to be like that. Either it's neither of them... or just him. Cora will never, ever, ever, die for him again.

"I know you will." That he's certain of - not just from the words, not just from Law's expression, but also because he can see how completely, thoroughly determined Law has become in the past thirteen years. There was plenty of that stubbornness in him as a kid, too, but it would have been awfully hard for him to show it as his illness advanced. Now, strong and in possession of one of the most powerful devil fruits known in their world, there's nothing to stop him.

Except, apparently, Kaido, and what he wouldn't give right now to somehow step across time and space to catch that asshole off-guard and fire a few rounds point-blank into the back of his head, but that's a revenge fantasy he's certain he'll never get to act on so he keeps it entirely to himself.

In need of his own distraction, he reaches for his shirt to pull that back on, since Law seems uninterested in inspecting him any further. "You know, if you need medical equipment, there might be some at Dr. Lutece's lab. It's not far from here. She was doing all kinds of things - blood tests, I don't remember what else. But she's gone missing, and by now, she's probably not coming back." And maybe there's something there Law can use to fix him. Just because he's used to this doesn't mean he likes it.

It's a welcome change of subject, even though Law feels somewhat annoyed by the fact that he can't do anything about it right now; but he's not going to risk anything going wrong, confident though he is in his abilities.

"Good. I'll go and have a look, later." As long as he has at least something... it should be fine. He can cut around the ribs, reattach the skeleton, and put them back where they belong without spilling blood, but rearranging is different from simply cutting out things. He wants to be sure nothing can go wrong.

Then, firmly, he looks at Cora.

"I can fix that. I will fix that." Just... give him a little time. If nothing else, he'll need something with which to sew the holes that will be left behind in the puncture marks.

"It's fine if you can't. It just looks weird," he says with a shrug. As if it was that simple, as if he wasn't already self-conscious enough before with a lifetime's worth of scarring, many of which are the result of a childhood he doesn't discuss.

Law's got his own set of new marks on his own skin though, doesn't he? He'd seen the tattoos on his hands before but the t-shirt shows off a little more. He feels like he's become an endless litany of questions, but there's so much to ask about. He'll probably spend the rest of their time here trying to catch up with everything he missed. With the end of his cigarette, he gestures to Law's arms.

"That looks cool, though. What's that mean?" Some kind of spiky ring? He tilts his head, trying to get a look at how it's bent around his forearm.

As if that's all of it... which is exactly why he's determined to do something about it. It's not even that difficult — or wouldn't be, at least, if they were back in their world.

He hasn't even thought of the tattoos showing, too used to them at this point... but when Cora questions their meaning, he abruptly thinks that maybe he's just going to keep a shirt on, forever, because compared to the tattoos on his hands and arms, his chest, back and shoulders are... well.

Cora probably wouldn't be asking the question at all, if he saw them instead.

"Nothing in particular. As long as it looks alright, does the meaning really matter?" Yes, actually. A lot. He's not the type to do things like this without it carrying a lot of meaning... it's too bad he's just unwilling to spell it all out.

"Well, yeah, I think so. Tattoos usually have meanings, right?" he counters with a raised eyebrow. There's plenty he'll let Law get away with in the name of sparing him too much pain, but this claim is so obviously bullshit that he's not going to back down quite so readily.

Especially since if it means something important to Law, of course he wants to know! How could he not?

Great. Of course this is where he'd push for answers. There's a moment where he only wants to laugh — what else would it be? Is there anything, anything meaningful he's done in his life that doesn't revolve around exactly one person?

Maybe he's being unfair. Cora's been dead for all that time. And when he did... hell, all of it, he never once expected he'd have to explain the memorial he's constructed around him, the black ink in his skin a permanent reminder of exactly what (who) he'd lost, and what he owed.

"... it's the same shape as my crew's jolly roger," he admits, because it is, he's not lying! He only hopes Cora hasn't looked at the actual insignia too much... would it have been on any of the newspapers? Perhaps not. It certainly was on his clothes from Wano, but maybe he hadn't paid attention.

Still — he's looking away very determinedly, and to someone else it'd probably just seem like he's uncomfortable... but to Cora, who knows him, he likely seems just as embarrassed as he actually is.

"Oh - okay, yeah, I see it," he agrees, nodding. Same round symbol with the pieces around the edge, just with an extra circle of spikes around it. "Missing the smile though, right?"

Which he'd noticed especially for how oddly similar it was to Doflamingo's jolly roger but without the line through it. Clever, really - a nod to Law's first crew but simultaneously the opposite of it.

Now, he's not totally oblivious. He did wish for Law to remember him as smiling, and that was much more recent for him than it would have been for Law. So a smiling mark that's a clever fuck you to his brother? Seems all good to him, even if it's more of an honor than he personally deserves for what he did. Still, why is Law so self-conscious about it? Is it just how all of this is still both new and awkward and difficult for both of them, being together after so long? He just wants Law to be reassured, to be content, not to shy away, so having asked, he smiles himself - not the bold grin of the jolly roger, but softer. Encouraging.

When deciding on something, Law is rarely someone to go back on his opinion or resolution... unless there's a good reason for it.

And really, he could still just wave all of this off, just nod to the part about the missing smile, nothing else... and hope that Cora never sees the rest of jos tattoos.

But the chances of that happening? Ha. Zero. He knows well enough how hard it is, trying to conceal things when living in such close quarters.

Law sighs. Isn't that why Cora told him about the changes now, too? Before he'd have a chance to find out on his own, and have a worse reaction.

And though this is hardly similar... for the first time in a while, Law goes back on his decision, and thinks that maybe, ripping off the bandaid at once is best. And so he heaves another sigh and just takes off his shirt, without explanation... because when he turns to Cora, the rest of his tattoos fully visible, they're probably explanation enough.

"Don't say anything," he mutters, knowing that it's likely words wasted. But at least he tried.

For a moment he figures Law has decided to show off the rest of his tattoos just because. Which is a good enough reason, after all! They're tattoos, they're neat, and he can tell there's more than the ones on just his arms and hands with how the very tail of something had peeked above the neckline of the samurai getup - a little harder now to make it out with the higher collar of the t-shirt.

But it takes all of half a second for him to realize the actual reason. The smile, the heart. More hearts. He in fact does not say anything for a good several seconds, as he's too busy staring with his jaw hanging slightly agape before he realizes and shuts it. Pink blossoms over his cheeks. Oh.

"Law..."

Here he had thought he'd be lucky just to be remembered. With Law alive, with his devil fruit, he had figured for a good long while here in Beacon that the kid would move on, grow up, and maybe think fondly of him and that would be enough. On reading through the papers Pluto had sent him, he'd realized he'd been memorialized in the name of the Heart Pirates, and that was very sweet. Saw, too, that Law's actions through the years had been focused around individuals who had wronged them both, and all right, revenge wasn't necessary but he had taken it (correctly, he knows now) as a reply to what he'd told Law the last time they saw each other, and felt loved.

So all of this isn't exactly a brand new shock, but it's a layer of dedication that is deeply personal and intimate and permanent. Hearts, all over Law's own skin. He lifts his eyes to meet Law's and tries again.

"Law... all that, in memory of me?"

Oh, so this is way worse than he thought it might be, great. As Cora stares at him, mouth open, Law is very determinedly looking at anywhere but him — the floor, the ceiling, Mary's drawings, the coffee machine. He visibly grimaces at the sound of his own name, and wills that he's not looking as embarrassed as he feels, but in truth his own face probably matches Cora's in colour.

"I told you not to say anything," he sighs out, finally, a non-answer that's still probably as good as a yes.

He's silent for a moment, before he seems to make a decision, his eyes finally meeting Cora's; now, the embarrassment is gone, replaced with something that's a mix of regret and determination.

"... I couldn't bury you, or give you a gravestone or a memorial that you'd have deserved. You — you died because of me, and I couldn't even..." His voice falters for a moment, before he continues, "So I decided to do something."

A whole lot of somethings, in fact: build a memorial around himself, ink it into his skin, pour all the love he had never expressed out loud into making sure Donquixote Rosinante's memory would live on, that his will would live on, all as long as Law himself was alive. He turned himself into a living memorial because it was the only thing he could do... and he wouldn't have accepted anything less.

"I... it's..." He takes a deep breath and stops himself. He wants to be honest with Law after all the lies and all the guilt, but honesty isn't always helpful. The honest truth is that he never thought he could have an impact like this on someone's life, because he has always held something of a dim view of his own worth. Who is he, to expect anything from anyone? He's lived in the hopes of making the world a better place for other people while never thinking much about himself, because he doesn't matter.

"It's just that nobody has ever done something like this for me," he says, shakily. "I like it, I think it's beautiful." He just doesn't think he's worth it, but stops short of saying so. He gave his life willingly, and didn't need anything in return. Law's thoughts would have been enough. The tattoos are a wonderful tribute, and fitting - black on Law's skin, rather than white. If only he could work out how to put the gratitude into words without feeling guilty.

"Why wouldn't I? Do this and more?"

He sounds... almost angry, like the thought of him not dedicating his life to Cora is something unthinkable, something that makes him furious simply to entertain the thought of.

"You saved my life, you... you stopped me from becoming —"

— a monster, he thinks, like your brother.

"... I guess it's good you like them," he mutters after a long pause, because saying this was the only way I could show the world how much you mattered, even if they couldn't understand the message is far too much.

Sighing, he turns to shrug the shirt back on.

Even with his dismal outlook on himself, Rosinante knows people in general, and Law in particular, well enough to realize that the anger isn't actually directed at him or anything he's done. Law is angry at a lot of things, has plenty of reason to be. Probably a lot of other feelings come out as anger because it's what he knows best.

Understanding people doesn't mean he knows exactly how to respond, though. Most of the time, with most everyone he meets, his role is to sit quietly, to observe. Sometimes people take this as support, but with Law, one of the few people he's ever really felt close to, he genuinely wants to help him feel better and just doesn't know how. He's good with words up until they need to be honest, and then it's hard to know what to say.

"Law," he tries again, "Thank you. For being someone who would. Who cares." Who loves him as much as he loves in return. Without another word, he shifts his weight so he moves forward onto his knees, which puts him in arms reach of Law, and pulls him into a tight hug.

Which, it turns out, is not a position he can sustain his balance in so really all he does is pull him and Law very abruptly onto the floor.

INTRO LOG: JULY

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apparently this is "law is allergic to honesty: the thread" now

it's just payback for how many lies?? lmao

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